


Jade in the Moonlight

by platinumtongue



Category: Mo Dao Zu Shi, grand master of demonic cultivation - Fandom, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: BL, Chinese Character, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gay, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Light Bondage, Love, Love Triangles, M/M, Recovery, Reversible Couple, Rimming, Romance, Unrequited Love, Yaoi, love square, manhua, puppy-like seme, seme jiang cheng, seme jin guangyao, seme lan xichen, uke jiang cheng, uke jin guangyao, uke lan xichen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:28:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 59,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22010038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platinumtongue/pseuds/platinumtongue
Summary: Zewu Jun has just lost his home. Meng Yao opens his home and his heart to protect him. Story of mutually unrequited love between Lan Xichen and Meng Yao (Jin Guangyao), and after Jin Guangyao's fall, Lan Xichen's love being gradually rehabilitated and revived by Jiang Cheng. (Jiang Cheng story starts from Ch. 10, smex starts in Ch.3 ;P)
Relationships: Lan Huan/Meng Yao, Lan XiChen/Meng Yao, Lan Xichen/Jiang Cheng, zewu jun/jin guangyao, zewu jun/lianfang zun, 蓝曦臣/金光瑶
Comments: 31
Kudos: 207





	1. Diadem in the Grass

Of all times for Lan Qiren’s illness to worsen…

Lan Xichen clenched his fists at his sides. He could hear the horror taking place in the distance, the screams of his disciples and the sounds of swords opening flesh. Two more stood breathlessly waiting a command, looking nervously between him and his uncle. His uncle still sat calmly despite the blood still moist on his lips.

“Xichen,” said Master Qiren. “The clan is alive only as long as you are. Even if I wanted to rebuild this place on my own, I could not. Go now. You are the only one who can protect us.”

Xichen had never run from danger in his life. Neither did he seek it out of course, but to abandon his whole world here went against everything their clan taught about duty and piety. It took several deep breaths for him to view the situation objectively enough to see that his uncle was right. Moreover, if he did not leave now, he would have no chance of getting out alive. 

While he tarried and tried to find some excuse to take his uncle or Wangji with him, his uncle got graciously to his feet and looked closely at him, in a way he had not done since Xichen was a child. 

“Time is short,” Qiren said. “It must be now.”

Xichen bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted metal in order to control the overwhelming urge to draw his sword and protect his clan, even to the death. But that would not save this place, or their way of life from the Wen clan’s destruction, nor would it make up for the horror that was currently being visited upon them. Though it broke his heart, he slowly raised his hands before him, clasping them together as he bowed his head before Master Qiren. 

The master reciprocated his bow, then grabbed his arm with a firm grip and shoved him hard toward the door. “Go.”

Xichen realized that the door was currently clear of sight of any Wen clan members. He hurried out and entered the forest beyond the Cloud Recesses in one leap. He told himself his uncle and Wangji would be safe, and they would be able to hide at least a few disciples in the Cold Pond Cave. As he raced through the forest, the sounds of battle fading behind him, the hole in his heart only grew wider. Intellectually, he knew he was doing the right thing. But his feelings had never clashed so badly with the cold logic of his clan before. He had never felt like such a coward.

As he reached the foot of the mountain, he stopped. He realized with a deep sinking feeling that he had nowhere to go. He could seek aid with the powerful Jin clan, the militaristic Nie clan, or even with Wangji’s good friend in Yunmeng, but wherever he went, he would make the kindness of those who took him in into a target of the Wen clan. No matter what, he realized sadly, he must conceal his identity from now on. 

His clothes were of the highest quality, and would reveal him to anyone as not only a great cultivator, but certainly a member of the Lan clan. He touched his robes regretfully. But after only a moment of reflection, he loosened his sash and belt, letting the metal drop flatly and the silk slither to the forest floor. He shrugged off his outer robe of cornflower blue and let it drape a nearby shrub instead of his own shoulders. He considered leaving Shuoyue, which was after all a well-known sword and was perhaps more identifiable than his own face, but he could not be defenseless either. He hid Liebing in his sleeve, and after briefly lamenting the loss of good silk, ripped his formed belt to make it longer. He twisted the fabric around Shuoyue, laying it over his back, and tied the torn fabric across his chest. 

He was about to step out toward a public path when he realized he had neglected something. He raised his fingers to linger over the band of fabric that had covered his forehead for the better part of his life. Truly, he only removed it to bathe. While he was not as strict as his uncle or younger brother, of course his headband was just as vital to his connection to his clan and spiritual ancestors. To think of being without it during the daylight deepened his loneliness until it was painful. But there was no clearer identifier of a Lan clan member than that.

He slipped it off his forehead, holding it in his hand for a moment. But rather than leave it behind or hide it someplace he could not feel it, he wrapped it several times around his wrist. It was more risky, but he could not let go of this one piece of sentimentality. He also removed the pin keeping in his diadem and dropped the dragon-like metal ornament on the forest floor. As a final measure to conceal his face in a way that wasn’t suspicious, he re-tied his hair in a much looser way, leaving large portions out to hang in front of his face. He stepped out into the oddly bright sunlight not as Zewu Jun, one of the Two Jades of Lan, or even a Gusu Lan member, but no one.

He realized as he walked that his feet felt shaky. He could not have predicted how much he would feel like a detached cloud just by removing the appearance of his clan. It was such a large part of who he was, he genuinely felt lost. 

In a state similar to sleep-walking, his feet guided him in the direction of Qinghe. He walked for nearly two days with minimal rest, driven by lingering adrenaline and instability in his heart. Part of him had decided that the Nie clan was the safest choice, with such a strong military and no direct ties to him. But another force inside him yearned to see a particular familiar face, one that had stricken his heart deeply when they met once in the Cloud Recesses. He did not consciously acknowledge this desire, or its influence in his reasoning.

Suddenly, as he walked through a crowded city, he felt a hand grasp him. His heartbeat rose and he prepared to draw Shuoyue, turning to face the owner of the hand. Regret and relief broke over him at the sight. 

“Meng Yao…” he murmured.

Meng Yao, though looking somewhat pale and weak, grasped his sleeve firmly with a look of concern. “Zewu Jun…what are you doing in such a place?”

He couldn’t answer at first. He opened his mouth but the words seemed afraid to come out. Meng Yao seemed to read in his face that he couldn’t answer and sighed softly. 

“I have a room in the inn south of here. Will you come with me there?”

Xichen was overwhelmed with gratitude at the gesture, but he quickly shook his head. “If they should find me…it’s too dangerous. I was heading toward the Unclean Realm…”

Meng Yao’s expression tightened and he seemed in pain. “I’m afraid it’s not safe there either.”

Xichen closed his eyes, having feared that response. “…I cannot put you in danger.”

Meng Yao quickly covered a look of surprise at Xichen’s concern. As Xichen thought the first time they met, he seemed unused to people being concerned for him. But he shook his head. “This is no time for you to worry about that. This way, quickly.”

Xichen was too exhausted to object any further as Meng Yao guided him into a quiet little inn in a secluded street. Inside the room, he helped Xichen to sit and then asked what had happened. Finally, able to think better without as much pain in his feet, Xichen was able to answer.

“The Cloud Recesses…” he said softly. “…are gone.”

“Gone?!”

“Burned. I trust that my uncle, brother, and a few disciples must have survived, but the library is burned.” The words tumbled out that he had practiced, but Xichen could feel there was no soul in his voice at this moment. He was so exhausted and ashamed of his appearance he could not look Meng Yao in the face. “Wen Chao came in broad daylight. He killed the most defenseless.”

Xichen realized he was shaking again. Having to say the words out loud made what had happened seem more real. He could not go back to his home. Those dearest to him might now be dead, and even if they were not, their home and much of their history was burned. Blood of the innocent was now staining the white stones of their courtyard.

As he sat there at his lowest point, he was not sure what he was expecting, only that Meng Yao’s was the only comforting face he had seen in the past two days. To his surprise, he felt soft hands touch his chest. They creeped up his shoulders and around his neck, and before he knew it he was enveloped in Meng Yao’s arms. All his strength left him, and with a shaking breath, he clasped Meng Yao’s small body tightly against his own. 

It was several minutes before he realized with a gasp that he must be soiling Meng Yao’s clothes. He backed away. “I’m sorry…I must smell like a stray dog…”

Meng Yao only shook his head. “I’ll boil some water for a bath. Wait here.”

Xichen nodded. 

As Meng Yao left, he had a moment to think about how good it felt to be touched by him. Not just relief at his kindness, but a distant ache in his heart at the closeness and now a stinging one at Meng Yao’s absence. Part of him was afraid of this feeling, but it paled in comparison to the part that felt warm and at home in Meng Yao’s presence. He felt his own face brighten as Meng Yao returned.

The smaller man smiled for a moment in return, but then worry returned to his face. “Zewu Jun…you’re not hurt are you?”

Xichen smiled and shook his head. “Not at all. My feet just hurt a little from walking.”

Meng Yao nodded in understanding. “After you bathe you must rest. Come,” he said, and Xichen was grateful when he took his hand again to guide him to the bath in the adjoining room. 

The steam rising from the bath looked extremely inviting as Xichen could still feel the chill from the two previous nights sunken into his skin. He was so tired he started to undress while Meng Yao was still in the room. For his part, Meng Yao didn’t seem bothered by this at all.

“Do you need help bathing or can you do it on your own?” he asked.

In all honesty he didn’t want him to leave. But he assumed Meng Yao had his own business to attend to, assisting Nie Mingjue and Huaisang. It also seemed like asking for too much to be assisted while bathing when he wasn’t really hurt. 

He smiled reluctantly and shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

“Then I’ll go and find you a change of clothes. But there won’t be much to choose from near here. I don’t think anything but heavenly colors suits you, Zewu Jun,” he muttered bitterly, seemingly to himself. Xichen thought he saw a blush tinging at Meng Yao’s cheeks, and his heart fluttered at the cute expression. But the next moment, the delicate man swept out of the room. “I’ll be back soon. Take your time.”

Xichen sighed as loneliness hit him more sharply this time. But he had to wash this filth off him, and there was no way around that. He finished undressing, making sure Shuoyue and Liebing were within arm’s reach, and sunk into the delightfully warm water. It was so comfortable unfortunately that he quickly slipped into a light sleep.

He did not hear Meng Yao knock on the door, or call for him. In fact he didn’t hear him until tense fingers grasped him with worry and a voice near his ear cried, “Zewu Jun!”

He gasped awake. Meng Yao’s face, full of worry, was the first thing he saw. 

“You scared me half to death! You can’t sleep in the bath! You should have told me if you were so tired!”

“Ah…I’m sorry…” Xichen mumbled, though still somewhat muddled by sleep.

Meng Yao bit his lip for a moment, frowning with concern. “I can’t leave you like this…I’ll just wash your hair for you, all right? Then you can sleep.”

Xichen felt a moment of embarrassment at the thought that no one but family members had ever washed his hair for him, and not since he was a very small child. But he gratefully nodded, knowing how tired he was and how hard it would be to do it himself.

“Lean back,” Meng Yao instructed softly.

He felt Meng Yao’s hand slip behind him under the water, heedlessly wetting his own sleeve. He supported his back as Xichen leaned back and let his heavy, tangled head sink into the warm water. As the sound of water filled his ears, he could not help but close his eyes in deep contentment. He felt a kind of relaxation he had never known sink deep into his bones. Meng Yao’s hand was small but held the back of his neck steadily, telling him silently that he was safe and cared for. 

As he fought the urge to sleep, he felt Meng Yao’s fingers loosen the tie in his hair and let it free under the water. They carefully untangled every knot, then ran over his scalp comfortingly again and again. Xichen’s heart pounded with excitement in spite of his exhaustion. He allowed his eyes to open a little and watch Meng Yao’s sleeves shielding his vision as they deftly worked. He almost felt tears reach his eyes at how happy he was at this moment, though even he couldn’t say exactly why.

While he would have gladly let this feeling would go on for hours, it only took a few minutes for Meng Yao to finish washing his hair. “Come. I know you’re tired but you must get dry,” he told him, and guided him out of the bath again. 

Meng Yao plopped a cloth on top of his head and did his best to rub the moisture out of Xichen’s luxurious hair, though with their height difference this was quite difficult for him. He seemed to pay no mind at all to Xichen’s nakedness during this process, a fact which Xichen himself would later reflect on with both great gratitude and great embarrassment. He even wrapped Xichen up in soft robes before bringing him into his bedroom. 

Xichen felt heat reaching his own cheeks at the touch of Meng Yao’s hand as he was guided into his bedroom. He wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but somehow he felt he wouldn’t mind whatever it was. Even though he had already felt a strong connection from the first time they met, just the past couple of hours had endeared Meng Yao to him deeply. He trusted him, and also badly needed whatever comfort he was willing to provide.

His heart fluttered as Meng Yao sat beside him on the bed. He still held his hand softly, and ran his thumb over Xichen’s knuckles in an unbearably sweet gesture of affection. Xichen tilted his head down toward him to observe his delicate features as they sat in a few sweet moments of silence, although Meng Yao didn’t seem to notice his gaze. 

Meng Yao softly squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “Who ever thought the Wen clan would attack the Lan directly? To attack the most peaceful clan without warning…their brutality is really sickening.”

With this, the deep comfort in Xichen’s heart was broken with thoughts of his home and family. He felt his own fingers tighten around Meng Yao’s small hand. He couldn’t think of anything to say.

Meng Yao’s free hand touched his shoulder and encouraged him to lay back. “Rest. I won’t leave. Sleep until you have your strength back, then we can think of what to do next.”

Words of irrational sentiment almost slipped from Lan Xichen’s lips as Meng Yao’s hands guided him into his bed. The bed smelled like him. Xichen closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. He was already half asleep as the blanket covered him in warmth and Meng Yao’s scent. His hand stretched out and lay atop Meng Yao’s as his consciousness finally drifted away.

When he woke, it was like clockwork to the first light of dawn at 5 in the morning, as was the custom in the Cloud Recesses. He suffered a wave of disorientation at the unfamiliar light and surroundings. It took him a moment to remember everything that had happened. He felt sick to his stomach thinking about the destruction of his home, and worry for Lan Qiren and Wangji. 

But almost as quickly he wondered where Meng Yao was. He scanned the room and spotted a figure curled up on the nearby sofa with nothing but a robe draped over his clearly shivering body. Xichen didn’t think as he got up with the blanket to cover the smaller man instead. Though he remained asleep, his shivering soon ceased. Xichen knelt beside him with a smile edging over his face, captivated by the innocence of his expression during sleep. He even boldly reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from his face. He marveled at the softness of his skin, and regretted leaving its touch. 

Only now did he look down on himself and realize he was fully clothed. He was wearing plain white yi and chang, and gray shan, drawn in with a simple black belt. Though each item undoubtedly belonged to someone like Nie Mingjue, the style with which they had been put together more resembled Meng Yao’s restrained taste he thought. He smiled a little at this. 

He returned to the bathroom to find everything as he had left it the previous night. The bath was still full, though fully cold by now. His clothes were in a heap where he had left them, including his headband which he quickly wrapped around his wrist and concealed beneath his sleeve. He also placed Liebing there and retrieved Shuoyue from the tattered blue remains of his former sash. He decided no one would recognize it from a distance, so there was no need to continue hiding Shuoyue’s presence. As he promised, Meng Yao really hadn’t even left the room for a moment, he thought with a strange yet pleasant pang in his chest.

The events of the past few days left uncertainty settled over Lan Xichen’s heart, and to quell it a little, he gazed out the window toward the quiet outside. His attention was caught by the small passing birds, which he thought resembled Meng Yao. Without his realizing, soon over an hour had passed in his quiet meditation. 

He heard stirring on the sofa behind him. “Zewu Jun…” Meng Yao murmured. “Are you all right?”

As he turned to smile warmly at him, Meng Yao approached sleepily and laid a comforting hand on Xichen’s arm. He covered it with his own, provoking a sudden blush from Meng Yao. He knew he was expected to say something, but for the moment he was so content he didn’t want to interrupt the peaceful atmosphere. 

Presently, sadness overtook Meng Yao’s expression. “I’m so sorry about your home. I don’t know how to help you,” he said.

“You are helping me a great deal,” Xichen assured him with surprise. “It means very much to me that you were kind enough not to leave me alone. And by allowing me to stay, you are saving my life at the risk of your own. I could hardly ask more than that.”

Meng Yao sighed as if he expected this response. “As always, you are too humble. You could ask for anything and I would give it. Practically anyone would.”

Xichen frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just…that you are very highly thought of. Anyone would be honored to serve you,” Meng Yao replied reluctantly.

“And they wouldn’t for you?”

The smaller man took in a sharp breath as if he had been prodded suddenly, apparently not having expected Xichen to understand him that deeply. His hand shifted under Xichen’s, trying halfheartedly to break away from him. 

“What are you saying?” Meng Yao mumbled. “Don’t tease me.”

“I would never tease you. I only wish you valued yourself more.”

Meng Yao blinked rapidly and his eyes looked slightly red, but with that he did remove his hand and turn partly away from Xichen. “At any rate, let me serve you until the danger passes or until you find some other arrangement. Do not feel gratitude as this is only my selfish desire. Is there anything you need now?”

Xichen considered. Perhaps because his loneliness had weakened him, or perhaps it was the relentlessly adorable expression on Meng Yao’s face when he was embarrassed, but he let his true desire at that moment reach his lips.

“Could I hold you for a little while?”

He couldn’t place the expression on Meng Yao’s face just then, his eyes lowered and lips parted, but he didn’t seem upset. “Of course,” he murmured gently. And without hesitation, he drew in close. He lay his head against Xichen’s chest, clinging to his robes. Xichen surrounded him in his arms and unconsciously inhaled the scent of his hair. Meng Yao’s body fit perfectly in the hollow of his arms. He had a feeling in that moment that time spent without this adorable creature curled up against him was time wasted. His heart was filled with gratitude and contentment, almost unfairly so given the situation that had given rise to this good fortune.

Why was Meng Yao so kind to him? he wondered. He had no obligation to do so. Although he was undoubtedly extremely intelligent and obviously had skill in politics, Xichen had never seen him so deferential toward anyone else. Indeed, a friendship with Lan Xichen wouldn’t do much for him in terms of status. Could it be that he really cared for him?

This thought sent a thrill through Xichen’s heart. He drew back slightly, taking Meng Yao’s cheek softly in his hand. His heart hammered in his ears. This small face was so very dear to him. How happy he would be if Meng Yao felt the same. 

Though he seemed surprised, he did not object to Xichen caressing his face. In fact the blush over his cheeks deepened, and his dark eyelashes fluttered against his porcelain cheeks. He may not have been a peacock like Jin Zixuan, but Xichen had always thought Meng Yao’s beauty was widely underestimated. He ran his hand firmly up Meng Yao’s back, drawing him even closer.

Meng Yao’s full lips parted as a slight gasp escaped him. His dark eyes were focused on Xichen’s lips. His chest rose and fell heavily against Xichen’s own. The hunger to be even closer overcame him, and softly Xichen pressed his lips to Meng Yao’s.

A small noise of surprise from Meng Yao echoed inside his mouth. He swallowed it as he tasted deeply of his lips, caressing them insistently with his own. He sank into the blissful feeling of sharing a sweet kiss with this precious person, even running his hands through the hair at the back of his neck and relishing the little shiver that ran over him. 

But seemingly as quickly as it had begun, Meng Yao lightly pushed him back. His hand covered his mouth in embarrassment as he looked away. “You…must be hungry. I’ll go and get us something to eat. I’ll be right back.”

In that small gesture and casually thrown out phrase, Xichen’s heart sank. It might indeed simply be embarrassment. But Meng Yao had only just finished telling him that he would give him anything he wanted. Anything, it seemed, except that. He tried to remain positive, but with everything that had just happened, as he was left alone in the room, Xichen almost felt a physical pain as he thought to himself, Meng Yao doesn’t feel the same way.


	2. Steps of Carp Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meng Yao does his best to assist Zewu Jun, and in a moment of boldness, asks for something he believes he does not deserve.

Zewu Jun had only seen Meng Yao in a state of despair. It seemed only fair now that he should be able to see Zewu Jun the same way. 

When they met, Yao’s greatest regret was not being able to spend more time at the Cloud Recesses, learning and calming his fractious mind. In his short time there, he had felt for the first time in his life a sense of the needles jabbing him every day being forced to retract just a little. And then, just when he felt a wave of rage and despair as he overheard the familiar barbs again, a savior had appeared. 

Like everyone else in the world of cultivation, he had heard stories of the kind and straightforward nature of Zewu Jun. But in all his life, Yao had never met anyone who was not completely at the mercy of social hierarchy. He expected the members of the Lan clan, who were well known for being strict and obeying thousands of precepts, to be the same. 

He still remembered the moment Lan Xichen descended the stairs to approach him, after his uncle had silenced the usual gossip about him. The soft, understanding smile he had given him. And the unhesitating touch over his fingers in order to accept the gift from him. Every instant of this interaction was new, unexpected, and quickly became deeply engraved into Yao’s heart. 

But as with everything else, due to his lack of official standing as a member of a cultivating clan, even if he stayed, Yao would receive no official instruction. Moreover, he had come half hoping that the strict and almost silent nature of the Lan would mean less of a chance of gossip about him, but those hopes were quickly dashed. There was no reason to stay.

Yet as he tried to leave, Zewu Jun did something even more remarkable. He clasped his hands. He even said they were equals. No matter how long he lived, Yao promised himself he would never forget that.

And now, though far from ideal circumstances, he found himself in a blissful kind of hideaway with this precious person. His cheeks still burned thinking about the way Zewu Jun had kissed him. How he seemed to be seeking out contact with him. He didn’t understand it, but he was willing to give him whatever he wanted. He had only one worry.

At this moment, Lan Xichen was extremely vulnerable. At least temporarily, he had lost everything: his family and home, and could not even walk the streets without fear. It was natural in that state to cling to any kindness that was offered. In his heart, Yao never imagined that Zewu Jun felt anything but pity for him. It never occurred to him that his feelings were genuine. While it was his every intention to be whatever support Zewu Jun needed, he also promised himself he would not take advantage of the situation. And if possible, he would try to guide his friend away from making any mistakes he might later regret.

They ate breakfast that morning in silence. Zewu Jun mentioned wanting to wash the clothes he had arrived in, and Yao prepared a basin, soap and water, but moments into the process, he realized there was a problem. The elegant man had barely run his yi across the washboard once before…

RIIIP.

“Ah.”

Yao raised his eyebrows in shock. He gazed at the noble hero who could charm sheer metal with his flute and looked at all times the perfect gentleman, who was currently looking at two pieces of clothing that were formerly one, with a deep frown on his face as if reading a difficult book. 

“How…did you rip it so deeply?” Yao murmured in astonishment. “I just turned away for a moment…”

Zewu Jun still seemed puzzled. “…how odd. I was sure I didn’t use much force-“

RIIIIIP.

This time he had only attempted to lift the item and show it to Meng Yao. In the process it was torn clean in half yet again, so there were now three pieces instead of one. Zewu Jun seemed to blush slightly. 

“Very strange…” he commented absently.

He seemed about to reach for his chang when Yao quickly stopped him. “Why don’t you let me do that?” 

“That’s very kind of you, but I-“

“Please.”

Zewu Jun seemed somewhat embarrassed, but he gave in with an obedient nod. Meng Yao made a mental note not to put himself in a position where he would be at the mercy of Zewu Jun’s arm strength. 

Remaining clothes now washed and hanging up to dry, Yao rose to look out the window to make sure there were no Wen clan members in the street. In the process he used a muscle that had been pierced by Core Melting Hand’s blade. He flinched in pain but managed to keep from making sound.

But Zewu Jun was so kind and observant, he didn’t miss the brief pained expression. “Meng Yao? Are you injured?”

He was on his feet before Yao could answer. He pressed two fingers to Yao’s wrist to feel his qi, which Yao tried to gently push away. “Stop…it’s almost healed anyway.”

“There is no need to be polite. Please let me see.”

Yao bit his lip bitterly, not wanting to further burden Xichen, or for him to see any more weakness in him. But he could see in his eyes that he wasn’t going to be dissuaded easily. Reluctantly, he parted his robe to reveal the wound he had bandaged himself. He was a little nervous to see some drops of blood still sinking through the bandage, but the wound itself was not serious and would indeed heal by itself in a few more days. 

Xichen looked on it with deep concern, gently brushing the bandage with his fingertips. The kindness in this small gesture made Yao’s heart flutter almost unbearably. The next moment, Xichen grasped Yao’s shoulders and encouraged him to sit down. Hesitantly, he did so. Lan Xichen touched vital pressure points along Yao’s chest and used his own spiritual energy to speed Yao’s healing. Almost instantly the pain from the wound lessened to almost nothing. Yao felt warm energy like water coursing through him. 

Even though such a display would normally make him feel inferior, it was impossible to feel bad while Lan Xichen’s vital energy was coursing through him. Yao had thought this before, but Zewu Jun’s spirit had a particularly calming effect on him. It almost made him forget the pain and resentment he carried with him through the world.

As he healed him, worry creased Zewu Jun’s brow. “Is this why you’re here alone?”

Yao felt a slight moment of panic at the subject. He would do anything to conceal the reality of what he had done from Zewu Jun. Fortunately, he was an expert at half-truths.

He tried to smile. “On the contrary. I should feel lucky to be alive, after earning the hatred of Nie Mingjue.”

“Hatred?” Zewu Jun repeated softly.

“…he blames me for the escape of a criminal. One with ties to the Wen clan. A truly wicked young man, Xue Yang.”

Zewu Jun sighed. “I cannot imagine you would do such a thing on purpose. Clan Leader Nie has always been uncompromisingly strict.”

Meng Yao easily summoned up real emotion to help conceal what he didn’t want Zewu Jun to know. He remembered every horrible thing that captain of the guard had ever said about him, or his mother, and imagined he was someone much more passive and helpless than he was. The person he wanted Zewu Jun to think he was.

Almost in tears, he murmured, “I thought I did my best. But then again, what captain of the guard would listen to someone like me?”

As anticipated, Zewu Jun’s countenance twisted with concern and empathy. If not for equal parts self-preservation and unbridled rage, Meng Yao briefly thought to himself that it would be nice to be this person of whom Zewu Jun apparently thought so highly. Perhaps it was that mistaken impression of purity that made him forget their social difference. That thought only deepened the self-hatred that had grown thickly in Meng Yao’s heart over the years.

A few minutes later, with the pain almost gone, Meng Yao touched Xichen’s knee. “That’s enough for now. Thank you, Zewu Jun.”

The tall, noble man before him sighed again. “Under normal circumstances, I would invite you back to the Cloud Recesses with me to heal and rest. Perhaps to find some new position for you there. The Wen clan has caused so much damage to so many…”

Meng Yao felt a vast ache open up through his chest at Zewu Jun’s casual offer. Could it be real? Was there a chance he could find some peace, alongside the person he admired most in the world? But that hope quickly faded. He knew one thing, and that was that – barring miracles – he would never be able to let go of the resentment he had cultivated in this “unclean world.”

He shook his head with a forced smile. “Don’t worry about that now. Have you decided what you will do next?”

Zewu Jun closed his eyes in thought. Eventually he answered carefully, “The first priority must be the rescue of my uncle and any disciples who may have survived. They have been without food for three days. I must find some way to get them out.”

Meng Yao nodded, though he despaired about how such a feat might be accomplished. “A small force in stealth might have a better chance…even so, two people may not be enough.”

Zewu Jun’s lips parted in surprise. “You’ll help me?”

Meng Yao forced a smile, though in reality he was a little hurt that Zewu Jun didn’t automatically expect him to help. Or perhaps he thought him too weak. “Don’t even consider it. I’ll do anything I can until you are back where you belong. I don’t mind saying it as many times as you need to hear it, but things would move faster if you assume that anything I can give is yours from now on, Zewu Jun.”

Zewu Jun seemed moved beyond speech. While staring at Meng Yao as if he were some mythical creature, he raised his hand and caressed the edge of Yao’s chin with the back of his fingers. His touch roamed up to cup Yao’s chin in his hand, all while Yao was struggling to prevent his heart from leaping from his chest. 

For a moment, it seemed Zewu Jun would draw him in for a kiss. Yao knew it was wrong, but it was so hard to deny this person anything that he wanted. On this occasion, he probably would have let him. But after a moment of hesitation, instead Lan Xichen leaned in close and rested his forehead against Yao’s. The gesture was so tender it almost broke his heart. Yao wished deeply then that he had chosen a less perfect human being to fall in love with. Of course, it was too late now.

He covered Xichen’s hand on his cheek with his own and for a few moments the two simply breathed in the same air in silent contentment together. 

“Zewu Jun. I think…there really isn’t time to seek help from any other clans, even if they were in a position to give it,” Meng Yao murmured at length. “I may be of meager help, but with you at your full strength, I don’t think there’s anyone in the Wen clan you need fear.”

Zewu Jun nodded, though for the moment he seemed reluctant to draw away. “You and I together then.”

Yao nodded, unable to hold back a slightly sad smile at Zewu Jun being at last willing to rely on him.

They approached the Cloud Recesses in the dead of night, on secret paths known only to the inner Lan disciples. Yao used what spiritual energy he had to produce talisman after talisman of silencing spells to hide even the slightest sound made by the two. As he feared, when they reached the cave it was guarded by nearly twenty Wen soldiers. 

He was just wondering what to do when Zewu Jun reached into his sleeve and drew out Liebing. He met Meng Yao’s eyes and whispered, “Get ready to run.”

He began to play a mischievous melody, ice blue spiritual energy quickly surrounding his flute. The soldiers, though most were half asleep, began to stir at the noise, looking around for a source. Before they could identify it, their swords began to rattle in the scabbards. One by one they rose into the air and floated before them. Then all at once the swords flew off into the distance, forcing the soldiers to chase after them lest they lose sight on them in the dark. 

Zewu Jun nodded toward the secret cave entrance, still playing his flute. Together they ran toward it, with Zewu Jun keeping up his playing as long as he could. At the last moment, he grasped Meng Yao’s hand so that he would be able to enter the cave with him. 

For a moment, they were in darkness. Then all at once they ran into an icy cave filled with cold light. Inside were twenty some disciples, huddling in small groups together, and Lan Qiren seated in meditation on a stone dais. His eyes flew open when he saw them. 

“Xichen…” Master Qiren murmured in shock.

“Clan Leader! Zewu Jun!” cried one disciple after another. 

“Hurry,” Zewu Jun told them. “Be ready to defend yourselves, but first run for all you’re worth. If we are separated, meet in Lanling.”

Though they had seemed exhausted only moments before, the disciples each clasped their hands before their faces and bowed. “Yes!” they cried.

When they ran back out, some of the Wen soldiers had retrieved their swords and were ready for them. Lan Xichen, Lan Qiren and Meng Yao all drew swords and engaged them to allow the young ones time to escape. 

Xichen killed two, helped Qiren kill another and then shouted, “Run! Now!”

Together they all ran down the mountain as the remaining soldiers struggled to find their swords in the dark. Meng Yao couldn’t believe that such a simple trick had been so effective. Zewu Jun was truly worthy of any good thing the world had to offer, he thought. 

They realized as they reached the bottom that the Wen soldiers were not able to follow them on the secret paths in the dark. But also that at least one person who had been with them at the top was not here now. They had no choice but to quickly move on to Lanling, hoping any stragglers could make it on their own.

The group reached Lanling by morning. Meng Yao pitied the disciples, and especially Lan Qiren, who seemed exhausted and in poor health, and had difficulty traveling the long distance through the night. Fortunately, they were welcomed by the Jin clan. Quite a contrast to the last time he had been here, Yao thought bitterly. He could still feel the impression of his father’s boot hitting him in the chest, and remembered every step that hit him on the way down from Carp Tower. 

And thus ended the brief but, for him, blissful time alone with his most respected person. Yao felt drained after all the effort and the realization that he was back in the world of gossip and hate again, as it would likely always be. He also knew he needed to avoid Madam Jin, whose shriek at the sight of him he could still remember. It hurt him deeply to leave Zewu Jun without saying goodbye, but he knew it was probably for the best.

He thought of going to see his father, but feared to do so without any meaningful achievements to show for himself. He still carried with him his mother’s likely irrational hope that he would be accepted by him one day, and take his place as a great cultivator and leader. It was for the sake of that legacy to her that he endured the hatred all around him.

And so without really telling anyone, he made his way down from Carp Tower toward the lonely world beyond. 

“A-Yao!”

Meng Yao stopped in his tracks. Nothing about what he’d just heard made any sense. No one since his own mother had referred to him that way. On top of which, the voice who said it – while it sounded like Zewu Jun’s – was a shout, which Zewu Jun never did. Finally, he felt his face light up with embarrassment at the idea that someone he cared about so deeply would call him by an endearment without even being asked. Was he talking to someone else? Had he misheard?

He hesitantly turned back to see Zewu Jun flutter down to him from the top of the steps. He landed right in front of him and clasped both his hands, though showed an expression of uncertainty. He opened his mouth to speak, but as often seemed to be the case, his words refused to cooperate.

Meng Yao sighed softly. He squeezed Zewu Jun’s long, slender fingers in return, and together they remained in silence for a moment, bathed in moonlight on the cold steps. He too tried to express at least the fact that he was leaving, but found it quite hard to say. So instead he decided to bet everything he had on one slim hope.

“Lan Xichen,” he said quietly, his eyes lowered in fear of seeing Zewu Jun’s face. “Could I spend the night with you?”

He heard a soft intake of breath above his head. Zewu Jun clasped his hands tightly before bringing them up to his own chest and pressing them against his heart. Yao’s own heartbeat quickened as he felt Zewu Jun’s pounding loudly against his fingers. 

Without a word, Zewu Jun released one of his hands and guided him back inside the estate with the other. Heedless of anyone who might have seen them walking this way, he brought him all the way to the interior rooms, one of which had been assigned only to him. He brought Yao inside and finally released his other hand to close the door behind them. 

He remained facing away from him, as if his awareness of the situation had finally caught up to him. “A-Yao…” he said again, causing Yao’s heart to ache once again. “To be honest, I have never…that is…”

Zewu Jun turned to face him with a reluctant expression. “No,” he corrected himself. “Before that, let me confirm what is on your mind. I do not mean to embarrass you, but above all I do not want to overstep my bounds. When you asked to spend the night with me…how did you mean that?”

Just this one night, Meng Yao told himself. No acting. No half-truths. He doesn’t seem to hate you, so let him spend one night with the real you.

Despite his directive to himself not to act, he felt heat reach his eyes and his vision became blurry. He blinked and sent a hot stream of water down his face. But of course, he realized. As soon as he let his mask fall away, he would be swallowed by the sadness of his mother’s death and his subsequent isolation, which he normally worked so hard to hide.

He sniffed and calmly wiped his tears with his sleeve, aware that Zewu Jun was flustered and didn’t know how to react to this. “I meant what you think,” he said softly. “I want you so badly. I have ever since the moment I met you. It’s painful. I feel like I’m being torn apart.”

He had barely finished speaking when Zewu Jun wrapped him tightly in his arms. The taller man stroked his hair and kissed it. “Then I’ll hold you together,” he whispered into his hair. 

Yao sobbed and clung to his broad, steady back. Zewu Jun was so kind, he thought. And even if it would please his father, and even if it meant finally getting the recognition he felt he deserved, he knew nothing would ever cause him to betray this beautiful person.

When he tilted his head up to him, Zewu Jun clasped his face in his hands and bestowed kiss after kiss on his lips. Lan Xichen kissed somewhat hesitantly, in a tantalizing way that gave Yao a moment after each brush of his lips to bask in the sweet feeling before another one came. He felt his excitement growing already, and even felt slightly faint. 

He allowed Zewu Jun to take most of his weight as he encircled his arms around his neck. He could feel his warmth even through their clothing, and his incredibly hard muscles moved effortlessly under his fingertips. He longed to see and touch them without obstruction. 

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like this, but certainly long enough for him to become impatient. However he didn’t want to rush this very careful person into anything, so he waited for Zewu Jun to make the first move. At length, as they were both panting and shivering in one another’s arms, Zewu Jun pressed a final, playful kiss to the tip of Yao’s nose.

“A-Yao…I’m not really sure how these things work, so…can you tell me what to do?”

For a moment, Yao smiled softly as he took these words to mean Zewu Jun had a surprising boyish innocence toward the idea of male-male sex, but then a sinking feeling hit him as he realized it might be something else. He thought over Xichen’s words as they came in the room, his manner of saying them, and a fear grew in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want to ask. But this was one thing his conscience wouldn’t let him leave unanswered.

“Zewu Jun…when you say ‘these things’…do you mean how things work between two men?” Yao asked softly, trying to keep his voice level.

Lan Xichen’s eyes fluttered in embarrassment over slightly reddened cheeks. “Yes…but also with anyone.”

These words hit Yao like a heavy gong, and he felt himself frozen in place. A part of him was honored that Zewu Jun was willing to give his first time to him. But the very care with which he viewed the slightest part of this beautiful human sent a surge of guilt rising up from the depths of Meng Yao’s body. 

He took a step back. He saw hurt flicker across Zewu Jun’s beautiful face. “A-Yao…?” he asked worriedly.

“You…were going to…” Yao muttered frantically, and he quickly turned away, clasping a hand over his own mouth in shame. He shut his eyes tightly, wishing to take back everything he had said on this night. How low was he willing to sink? To take the innocence of the only person in the world he really cared for? To mar his life with the knowledge that his first time would be with the son of a prostitute?

The fact that Zewu Jun already knew that about him and clearly didn’t care didn’t matter to Meng Yao. His shame was big enough for the both of them. Right now, he couldn’t bear the thought of being touched by Zewu Jun’s pure and heavenly fingers. 

“Are you ashamed…at my inexperience?”

These words of his beloved, spoken without the slightest malice or pretense, sent yet another shudder of guilt through Yao’s body. He quickly shook his head, but he still couldn’t turn to face him, even to reassure him.

“No, don’t be silly,” he whispered, unable to put any force into his voice for fear he would start to cry. “I…I’ve only come to my senses.”

With that, he wiped his face with his sleeve one final time, took a deep breath, and returned his mask of the obedient, innocent Meng Yao. But he was not yet brave enough to turn around.

Still facing the doorway he said, “Forgive my moment of self-indulgence. Of course, anyone would be honored to spend the night with Zewu Jun. But…your first should not be with me.”

“Why not?”

He almost cried out loud at Zewu Jun’s continued refusal to accept the difference in their social status. He bit his lip as he fought hard to control himself. 

He offered an awkward laugh. “Because you’re the great Zewu Jun. If not with your marriage partner, certainly it should at least be with a woman. Or if a man, then…a better one.” He quickly turned and bowed, without meeting Lan Xichen’s eyes, and then rushed back out of the room the way he had come.

He could barely see anything all night as he traveled, as his tears refused to stop. With all his heart, he regretted letting go of what was probably his only chance with his beloved. But he knew he could not bear to live with the stain of what he saw as causing him harm. From that night on, he put his one brief moment of happiness out of his mind, and put all his energy into his mother’s last hope for him. That meant one thing: earning the respect of Jin Guangshan. And he would do it, he told himself, no matter the cost.


	3. Xiyao

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Each time the perilous world around them calms, it seems Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao may finally have a chance to share in affection. Yet each step closer seems to bring them two steps apart.

It was not until after the Sunshot Campaign that Lan Xichen and Meng Yao, newly named Jin Guangyao, were able to speak properly again. Yet during the time they were separated, inexplicably, each found in the other a level of trust they had rarely experienced with anyone else. So much so that Meng Yao instinctively clung to Xichen for protection from Nie Mingjue. Although he was undoubtedly no match for Nie Mingjue, Xichen knew that Meng Yao was no coward and even if he could not fight, would accept death gracefully; his reliance on Xichen at that moment brought a deeply warm and protective feeling to his heart.

It seemed the torment was finally over, and Xichen looked forward to restoring their friendship. But Nie Mingjue continued his suspicions in spite of Jin Guangyao’s character now being made clear. The first time the two met properly after the campaign, Clan Leader Nie seemed to be trying to restrain himself but was only capable of throwing bitter barbs toward Jin Guangyao. 

At Jin Guangyao’s suggestion that they keep the remaining Wen prisoners in Qionqi Way, he bitterly said, loud enough for the other clan leaders to hear, “Well you’d know all about that.”

Guangyao froze momentarily, and Xichen was sure there was a moment of pain in his expression. He eventually attempted to bow before Clan Leader Nie swept past him as if he wasn’t there.

Xichen attempted to comfort him as he was leaving, “I hope you won’t take what Clan Leader Nie said to heart. He’s always been so inflexible; fiercely loyal toward the good and uncompromising toward the evil.”

“The evil…” Yao repeated quietly. 

Xichen held his breath for a moment, appalled at his own choice of words when he realized how Yao took them. “I didn’t mean it that way,” he assured him quickly.

Yao’s expression remained quite numb at first. “Don’t worry, Zewu Jun,” he said, suddenly seeming overly polite, as when they had first met. “I have known Clan Leader Nie for a long time. I don’t take anything personally.”

The next few meetings with Guangyao were similarly awkward and usually ended quickly, as they both had social and other duties to uphold. Finally, Xichen was able to invite Yao to Gusu with him on a purely social visit. 

“Er-ge,” Yao said, bowing to him as they met in the courtyard.

Xichen smiled warmly and clasped his hands to deny the necessity of the gesture. “A-Yao. I’m very happy you could come. Please come in and sit down.”

Xichen served them tea and waited for Yao to pick up the conversation with something that interested him. He was comfortable in the silence, but he began to become somewhat concerned when Yao, who was sociable to a fault, didn’t seem to be inclined to speak either. 

When he looked up at him after some time of sitting in silence together, while sharing a view of Xichen’s private garden, he was shocked to see an unusual degree of melancholy in Yao’s face. In truth, he always suspected it was there, but he normally did such a good job of hiding it. Yao noticed him watching and blinked, instantly returning to a neutral expression, and then smiling slightly.

“Carp Tower is so active,” he said, turning his attention to the tea he had been drinking. He brought it up to his lips as he added, “You really forget what silence feels like.”

“You prefer the activity?”

Guangyao swallowed his tea and shook his head with a smile. “I don’t mind it, but the Cloud Recesses are truly exceptional. If I were younger I’m sure I would give anything to become a disciple.”

“You would have been welcome,” Xichen replied, though with a touch of concern. He understood Yao’s near constant hesitation about his parentage, but he had always believed it was overblown. After all, even though he had never met Yao’s mother, clearly she was someone very special to have raised him so well. He added with a smile, “Though, I think you might have found it boring after too long.”

“I don’t think so,” Yao said, hiding a small degree of displeasure by taking another sip of tea.

Silence fell between them again and Xichen wondered if there was something really bothering him. They had never spoken about that night in Carp Tower, and Xichen believed it was not his place to bring it up. Nothing had changed, after all. Even to gain approval or attention from Jin Guangyao, he could not bring himself to be intimate with someone unless he loved them. So if his virginity was a problem for Jin Guangyao, it would remain so. Not to mention, he also had a lifetime of training to hold himself back from asking for what he wanted, as well as contentment in silence with those he cared about.

After yet another long silence together, Lan Xichen took up Liebing. This was a trait he shared with his brother; he found it much easier to express complex emotions through music. He took a breath and began to play softly, just for the two of them. He played intuitively to match his feeling, confident enough in musical expression that he could compose extemporaneously. Guangyao listened silently without reaction for some time, not even glancing at him. But after a few minutes, his lips parted. To Xichen’s disbelief, a tear ran down his cheek. He stopped playing immediately.

“A-Yao…” he said, distraught. “…have I upset you?”

Jin Guangyao blinked once or twice, frowning as if unsure himself. But he wiped his face and examined his fingertips without much concern. “Have you? It seems so.” He took a contemplative breath, but another tear dropped down his face even though he appeared calm. “It’s not your fault, Er-ge. I was only thinking, the way you play is so beautiful it’s almost tragic.”

“Tragic?” Xichen repeated, not sensing his meaning.

Yao shook his head, attempting a smile again, though it was still marred by the remains of tears. Xichen’s chest felt as if it had been split in two by how beautiful Jin Guangyao’s face looked in tears. “You make me regret being merely human. How nice it would be to be an angel descended from heaven like you. Then I could share in the beauty you make. As it is, I can only cry.”

Xichen didn’t know how to respond to this. “You can see me before you. I’m as human as you are.”

To reinforce his point, he opened his hand to lightly pick up Yao’s from resting on his knee and weave their fingers together. He squeezed lightly around the back of Yao’s hand. “Flesh and blood. Just as you see,” he added softly.

Yao let out a bitter chuckle, but Xichen was sure he felt his fingers tighten over his hand. “Well then. Maybe you are human. Maybe it’s I who is something still beneath that.”

It broke Xichen’s heart the way Yao talked about himself. He set down Liebing on the table in front of them and used his free hand to dab the tears from Yao’s face with his sleeve. Yao took in a breath of shock and looked mournfully at the stains on the formerly pristine silk. He tried to pull away but Xichen squeezed his hand to encourage him to stay and let him.

When his face was dry, Xichen tried again, “A-Yao. You always surprise me. You know, you should be one of the only people who knows what a fool I really am. I can count on one hand my own talents, all things achieved after much effort, not natural talent. I am awkward at speech, I have been told I am naïve, I hesitate always before making any decision, and at simple daily affairs I am stricken with unbecoming clumsiness. Whereas you are a polymath, whether it be music, tactics, writing, speaking or learning. Even cultivating. You take to everything as naturally as a fish to water. I also think, although you think I do not know this, that you are a very fine actor. And very good at reading people. Maybe the best there is.”

Slowly, traces of panic were starting to cross Jin Guangyao’s face. As Xichen suspected, he thought his disguise was perfect, even toward the person who probably knew him best. He never thought that Lan Xichen, Zewu Jun, would know what he was and still accept him anyway.

Xichen smiled reassuringly at him in spite of his distress. “With so much to admire about yourself, I have never understood how you can look at another person and say ‘angel’ without the slightest awareness of your own perfection.”

Yao frowned deeply as if he were unsettled by this talk, and he didn’t seem to be able to look Xichen in the eye. “Zewu Jun…it’s not nice to tease me…”

“I’m your sworn brother, no titles,” Xichen admonished him gently. “And as I have said before, I would never tease you.”

His breathing somewhat heightened, Guangyao didn’t seem to know what to do with himself, but in any case he seemed deeply troubled by what Xichen was saying. Very quietly he said, “Let go of my hand, please…”

Xichen felt a flicker of pain at this unexpected rejection, and his fingers loosened but he did not let go just yet. “Does it bother you?”

“…you shouldn’t do it,” Yao muttered in a harsh whisper, still refusing to meet his eyes.

“Why not?”

Yao just bit his lip and closed his eyes tightly. But in spite of his words, and the fact that his hand had started to tremble, his fingers closed tighter on Xichen’s. In return, Xichen grasped him tighter as well. Emboldened by his touch, he reached up and affectionately caressed Guangyao’s cheek with the edge of his finger, admiring the soft beauty of his face, even troubled as it was. 

When Yao didn’t pull away, and even closed his eyes contentedly at this, Xichen drew in close behind him, enveloping Yao’s smaller body in his embrace and lightly nudging Yao’s cheek with his nose. 

“You said my first time should be with a better man. I don’t know anyone better than you,” he murmured against his skin.

Another tear slipped down Yao’s cheek. “I do…I do know those things about myself…” he whispered vaguely, as if not fully present. “I know…I have talent…what does that matter? I don’t have breeding…and it seems I don’t even have a soul…why are you still touching me? Do you want your hands dirty?”

Xichen frowned sharply at this. He could accept no more of this talk from someone he loved. For the first time in his life, he took out his emotions physically on another person. He grasped Yao’s face in his hands and kissed him forcefully. The moment he did, with a soft moan, Yao’s arms reached around his head and clung tightly to him. Regardless of the fact that it was the middle of the day and his disciples were milling about not even twenty feet away, Lan Xichen gave himself completely to the feelings Jin Guangyao evoked in him, pushing him down to the floor in his meditation room.

He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but lest Yao get scared away again, he wasn’t about to ask. Instinctively he desired to touch and kiss, to worship and titillate, every part of Yao’s body he could reach. As he kissed him hard into the floor, he felt the lines of his body over his voluminous clothes. He moved his kisses down the side of Yao’s face toward his neck and even bit down softly there, causing the smaller man to twitch all over with a gasp. 

He reached down, about to start undoing Yao’s belt, when the delicate hand of his partner stopped him. With a slightly empathetic look, Yao said, “I think it’s better if you let me undress us both.”

Xichen flushed at the memory if his inability to wash clothes, which only Jin Guangyao and a handful of other people were aware of. Of course he was not so clumsy simply dressing and undressing, but he felt warm confidence grow in his chest at Yao’s willingness to cooperate and do this with him. He realized just then that he had no desire to let anyone else see Yao’s naked body, and after the fact about anything they might be doing together. He traced a spell into the air, sending out his spiritual energy in a powerful ward protecting his rooms.

Seeming further reassured by this, Yao stood up before him. While they watched each other with equal warmth, Yao unbuckled his belt and let it slither to the floor beside him. He untied his hat, slipped it off and set it on the table beside Liebing. Xichen of course admired his usual appearance of a prim noble gentleman, but he found Yao’s exposed face and hair much more charming. He slid one foot after the other from his boots, setting them to the side. 

Yao’s hands slid inside his upper robe and shrugged it off, letting it slip to the floor beside him. Next his chang, which he stepped out of and pushed back behind him with his foot. Xichen thought his hands were trembling slightly as he found the tie crossing one side of his undergarment over his chest and pulled it loose. That side fell away, revealing a diagonal of bare skin. As Xichen had suspected, his skin was pale and delicate, his muscularity bare and feminine. Xichen felt himself flushing as he watched, while heat pooled inside the core of his body. With a moment of hesitation, Yao’s fingers found the final tie and loosened it. 

The garment fell away, first parting to reveal his nakedness and then slipping down to the floor from his shoulders. Yao swallowed, shivering slightly and avoiding Xichen’s gaze. “I don’t think it’s anything special to look at…” he murmured. “…but…are you repulsed?”

Xichen got to his feet. By way of answer, he reached out and curled his fingers around Yao’s, bringing his hand up to his chest. He pressed his beloved’s fingers there in order to feel his hammering heartbeat. Next he guided them to his belt to encourage Yao to undress him too. Yao flushed but obediently loosened and pushed away each part that Xichen’s hands guided him to, until Xichen stood as naked as he was. It would be clear for him to see now, Xichen was far from repulsed.

To make sure that he saw, Xichen caught his gaze before darting his eyes downward. Yao’s followed them and he let out a soft breath of surprise to see Xichen already half hard just from looking at him. In Xichen’s defense, the manner of Yao’s disrobing had been extremely tender and erotic. He could hardly help his desire increasing just at the sight.

“Forgive me,” he said softly, “if I’m not very skillful.”

Yao seemed about to protest but Xichen forced his lips apart and cradled his head as he kissed him hard enough to bend him backward. Touching bare skin to skin felt incredibly warm and exciting. Not to mention Yao’s desperate attempts to gasp for air with every brief parting of Xichen’s lips from his own. At first he wiggled impatiently like a cat in Xichen’s grasp, but as the kiss deepened, and his moans grew sweeter inside Xichen’s mouth, eventually he was only able to cling to him. 

When Xichen at last gave him some relief by moving his attention to his neck, Yao’s legs gave out from underneath him. He quickly took his slight weight in his arms, holding him like the most precious object and kissing his hairline, cheek, and the corner of his eye. 

“Er-ge…” Yao whimpered, his hips arching back away from Xichen in embarrassment.

Xichen’s breathing heightened as he realized why. As he glanced down between their bodies, he could see Yao’s penis twitching excitedly beside his own. He didn’t think as he grasped them together in his hand and rolled his hips against Yao’s. 

“Ahhh!” Yao cried, falling against him with his fingers digging into Xichen’s shoulders. He didn’t even notice as they nearly drew blood. “Er-ge…Er-ge…” he moaned over and over as Xichen’s hands and hips deprived them both of logical thought. Breathless moans spilled over and over from his lips, Yao seemed to become less and less coherent. 

“Er-ge…” he cried urgently, sliding down Xichen’s body. “I can’t…I can’t stand!”

Xichen guided him to the floor and pulled him into his lap. He resumed his teasing of their most sensitive parts together, now kissing Yao’s neck as his head fell back and he twitched helplessly in his arms. 

Yao’s hips were bucking passionately against his own, but the action seemed to be unconscious. “Er-ge…Er-ge…” he cried, the pitch of his voice rising again and again. 

Xichen’s whole body felt alight every time he heard this passionate voice echoing against his ears. He stared intently at the hot and disheveled face of his love as they both approached the peak of pleasure. Finally he shut his eyes tight and held back a gasp as Yao let out a final scream of pleasure and spilled hot seed over both of them. 

“A-Yao!” he cried against his neck. 

He too shuddered hard as sparks seemed to fly before his eyes, heat rolling again and again down his entire body, his ears ringing and heart thundering in his ears. It felt so good he was immediately aware this must be against a Lan precept. Even so, against his better judgement he continued delicate and affectionate kisses over the sweat-tinged skin of this sweetest person as their sanity slowly returned. 

Yao’s hands encircled his neck again and he clung tightly to him like a fearful child. “Er-ge,” he whispered. He seemed to want to say something else, but kept stopping himself. He nuzzled Xichen’s neck, now and then placing kisses there. Xichen closed his eyes and let his hands stroke Yao’s slender back and hair, experiencing a blissful moment of loving and feeling loved. 

He could not know at that moment what Jin Guangyao was going through. How hard it was for him to do this, when he knew it would break his heart. And even harder, not to say the things he knew he should. The many words he held back that day would remain so for many years to come. In the mean time, the fall of Wei Wuxian was about to happen, forming a rift between the two that would take years to untangle. 

People continued to mysteriously reach bizarre and cruel ends in the vicinity of Jin Guangyao. Lan Xichen was not totally ignorant of these things, but in his trusting way, even though they were rarely physically intimate after that, he believed above all that Yao’s heart was his, as his own belonged to Jin Guangyao. And he believed anyone who loved him would only be someone who did things with a good reason.


	4. Coldest Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lan Xichen shares a very special memory with his friend. Jin Guangyao accidentally lets slip his own tightly kept secret.

It was on the first truly quiet night of winter. Not a welcome quiet like the peaceful briskness of an autumn sunrise, but rather the tense, dreadful quiet that preceded bitter snow falling in the dark, stinging the plants and hardening the earth. Jin Guangyao had come to visit the Cloud Recesses when a night hunt brought him to the area. It had been some time since he had seen Zewu Jun, and he realized in his longing for him that he had probably strayed so far into Gusu unconsciously.

Nonetheless, he was granted admittance with a handful of his retainers. Even after so many years, the thought that he was a welcome visitor to the famously guarded Cloud Recesses made his heart beat a little faster. He was invited into Zewu Jun’s sitting room, but surprisingly it took his friend a little longer than expected to join him. When he did, and he caught the beautiful Lan leader’s gaze, he thought his characteristically kind smile seemed hollow and forced, even though there was nothing visibly different about it. 

Zewu Jun comfortably sat beside him without a greeting, as they had known one another so long they rarely did so privately, and poured him a much-needed cup of hot tea. Yao held the cup covetously in his hands to warm them and blew softly on the hot liquid, taking a small sip before addressing Xichen.

“I do appreciate your kindness, Brother. I’m sorry to impose at this late hour.”

Zewu Jun shook his head with, as ever, a humble and yet affectionate smile. “Night hunting?” he asked.

Yao hoped the heat of the tea against his cheeks would disguise the blush at the possible suspicion that he had come here for any other reason. He nodded, taking another sip. “Our prey led us too far from Lanling to get home before dark…I hope our presence doesn’t disturb you.”

Xichen again offered a smile, but a reproachful one this time. “A-Yao. You know you are always welcome here.”

Yao felt again a flutter in his heart at the strange intimacy he felt between them at this moment. It took him some time to place it, but he realized that Lan Xichen would normally go out of his way to reassure him on such occasions. His remarks this evening were brief and seemed to come with difficulty, like coaxing water from stone. Yao looked up to gauge his expression, only to find Xichen’s gaze cast off to his side. 

Yao’s breath caught looking at him. Especially in profile, Xichen had every air of a holy animal of some kind, a water dragon or simurgh, his presence so benevolent and seemingly ancient, graceful and yet sad. Yao had to hold himself back from clutching at the pain in his chest from loving him.

But something really did seem to be wrong. To explore what might be the cause, he asked softly, “What were you doing tonight?”

Xichen reluctantly turned his gaze back up to him and gave a difficult smile before looking down again. It seemed to take him a moment to gather himself. When he did, he was able to look up at Yao with a more genuinely glad expression. “Would you like me to show you?”

Uncertain but worried for his friend, Yao nodded. Xichen seemed pleased that he accepted. He levied himself gracefully to his feet and nodded for Yao to follow him, which he did. Although he wasn’t pleased to be going right back out into the cold. Xichen led them quite a ways, nearly halfway through the whole complex to a small recessed cove, no more than knee-height, carved into the back of a very old storehouse. Inside a tiny divot in the ground was stuck a single bamboo prayer strip. 

Before it, Xichen knelt and produced three sticks of incense, which he stuck into the gravel in the ground. He used a tiny incantation to light them. Yao knelt beside him, already surmising what this was. 

“When you arrived this evening, I’m afraid I didn’t get the news right away. I was here. Paying my respects,” Xichen explained simply. 

With that, he performed two obeisances, which Yao joined. After a moment of silence passed between them, Yao asked softly, “Whose presence are we in right now?”

Lan Xichen smiled warmly but kept his gaze on the prayer strip. “No one, really. She couldn’t be buried within the Cloud Recesses, so this is just a little space I made for her.”

Oh no, Yao thought. 

“Just a place to remember my mother.”

Yao closed his eyes tightly. This was too painful. It was too personal. He didn’t belong here, together with this angelic person and the one who had brought him into the world and given him life. Wasn’t there someone more suitable to help him through this enduring sadness? Where was his brother? He had an urge to run away.

Another part of him couldn’t help feeling deeply honored. It was such a small place, not even noticeable from the main path. Yao wondered if Xichen might have even made it himself as a child. The thought of the young, helpless Lan Xichen kneeling here alone on a winter night after the death of his mother nearly brought tears to his eyes.

“Today’s the day of her death…?” Yao guessed in barely more than a whisper.

Xichen nodded, seeming pleased that Yao so quickly understood. “It could be my imagination, but every year somehow this night has always felt the coldest. But then, all the more reason I worry for her being without any company. Thank you for coming to see her.”

Yao was too overcome to react for some time. He made a silent prayer to any god who might be listening that he could not bear it if any more pain happened to this wonderful person. He snuck in another wish to make him somehow less perfect or loveable, and free Yao from some of the constant stabbing pain inside his heart from being near him. 

Without thinking, he performed two more obeisances on his own as Xichen watched him curiously. “Lady Lan,” he addressed the prayer stick, almost under his breath. “I am your son’s sworn brother, Jin Guangyao. Please rest easy: as long as I live, your son will never be alone or in need of help.” He closed his eyes as a hot tear ran down his face at the thought of his own mother and how cruel the world was to take only the most innocent. “Thank you for Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Lan Xichen smiling even more widely than before. When he dared to look, he was surprised to see tears on the cheeks of this perfect person that he admired so much. Xichen seemed to be looking at him in both joy and wonder. 

At length he scooped up Yao’s cold hand and wrapped it in both of his, again facing the prayer stick. “I hope this year will be kind to you too, Mother. You can see I finally have someone dear to me in this world too. Please watch after him as you have done for me and Wangji.”

Yao’s chest felt about to burst. This truly wasn’t fighting fair. He had already been too deeply in love to ever feel this way about anyone else. But now he feared he would drown in love of this person. He really thought it might kill him. The tears on his cheeks quickly made his face feel numb with cold.

Only moments later, Xichen rose and helped Guangyao to his feet as well. Yao used the excuse of the cold in his legs to lean against him for support. Xichen didn’t even question this, but briefly wrapped him in his arms to warm him. 

“You are even colder than me,” he murmured softly. “Let’s warm you up.”

Yao did not object as Lan Xichen brought him back to his rooms and wordlessly began undressing him. He did what he could with his shaking fingers to help Xichen, but somehow or other they managed to get undressed and into Xichen’s bed. Yao had assumed they would be doing erotic things, but at first Xichen just curled up with Yao snuggled tightly against him. He sighed deeply and nuzzled the back of Yao’s neck affectionately. Yao blinked through another urge to cry. 

But after only a few moments of being surrounded in Xichen’s warmth and scent, Yao’s body began to feel almost too hot. He couldn’t help shifting his hips in impatience. At one point he arched his back and felt something even hotter pressed against his hip. He flushed and his breathing heightened. 

He noticed Xichen’s hand, which had been simply resting on top of him a moment ago, begin tenderly exploring the contours of his chest. He shivered all over and felt the core of his body start to burn with desire. For a time he obediently allowed Xichen’s hand to do whatever it wanted, carefully examining all parts of his body within reach, from his neck, to his shoulder and arm, to his chest again, and down over his abdominals. 

As if to torture him, that large hand paused while stretched possessively across his lower belly. His cock was twitching in anticipation, desperately waiting for his touch. Xichen merely lifted his fingers and caressed the shaft with his knuckles. 

“Nnnh!” Yao moaned at the feather-light touch. 

Xichen pretended not to notice his distress and calmly continued his teasing advances. Several times he ran the back of his fingers up and down the length as if playing an invisible flute. He pressed his finger tip to the urethra, tapping lightly and encouraging precum to drip forth. 

Yao desperately grasped on to Xichen’s other arm which lay beneath him on the bed. “Stop…teasing me…!” he pleaded.

Though in reality he was a little disappointed, Xichen did stop. “I’m sorry,” he said sweetly, kissing Yao on the cheek. “You seemed to be enjoying it. Let’s do something else.”

Yao swallowed hard as his imagination briefly exploded with things Xichen might be thinking of doing, and he flushed as he refused to admit how good anything Xichen did to him felt. To his surprise, he felt Xichen’s large hands grasp him around the waist and turn him to face down with his hips propped up, his face resting on the pillow. Yao’s whole body shuddered with desire and uncertainty as Xichen’s hand caressed his ass.

“W-wait…” he said hesitantly.

His heart fluttered with warmth as once again Xichen obediently listened to him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, brushing aside some locks of Yao’s hair with concern. 

Yao bit his lip and shivered with love for him. He shifted to a seated position before Lan Xichen and tried not to be entranced by his naked beauty, his warmth and the scent of his skin. 

“You win,” Yao mumbled, aware he was trembling. “I can’t say no to you anymore. If you’re determined your first will be with me, I’ll take it. If you regret it later…” His voice caught as he pictured the guilt that threatened to drown him, at the thought of him ruining Xichen’s love life. “Well then…you can kill me or castrate me. Whatever will ease your feelings.”

Xichen let out a heavy breath, shaking his head with a disapproving smile. “Your imagination is yet another quality I admire, but I sometimes wish it were more positive.”

“Life has taught me never to trust in positive outcomes. Hope is just enough to really break you.”

“You’d rather be pleasantly surprised,” Xichen guessed sadly.

Yao considered that, but he tried to think of a time when he had actually been pleasantly surprised. It seemed to him that every good thing that ever happened to him had come with prodigious effort, sacrifice and pain. So much so it almost didn’t seem worth it. The only exception to that was the angel, naked and glorious sitting before him, and willing to give him love – or at least comfort – without asking anything in return. For that he felt he could never sacrifice enough to deserve it.

“My point is…I consent, reluctantly, to whatever it is you may want to do with me.” This was not what he meant to say. It was truly only a preamble to the discussion of necessary preparation for anal sex, which he was currently intending to do. But not knowing at this time how Lan Xichen actually felt about him, Yao had no idea what impact these words would have.

Xichen slowly blinked once, and then again. His gaze lowered and Yao thought his eyes looked red. It seemed to take him some time to form words, during which time Yao slowly lost the will to continue his point. 

“It’s really…that hard for you to do this?” he murmured, barely above a whisper.

Yao took in a stunned breath. He didn’t understand what had provoked this reaction. Why was he upset? At the word, “reluctant”? Had he injured his pride? Of course, he realized, anyone would be hurt to be told that. He just thought the reason for his reluctance was obvious, and that Zewu Jun should know it well by now. But in case somehow he didn’t, he had to reassure him.

“As I have told you before, Lan Xichen, there is no one who wouldn’t want you,” Yao said patiently. “It’s certainly no hardship. That’s not what I mean.”

“You don’t make sense,” Xichen replied, with a bitterness and hurt that Yao had never heard in his voice before. He almost looked angry as he glared down at the bed beside him, avoiding Yao’s gaze. “Obviously there is at least one person who wouldn’t want me. And if that person is the only one I want, then it’s the same as being completely alone.”

Yao was frozen by this unexpected revelation, but his self-doubt still prevented him from fully understanding Xichen’s feelings. 

To Yao’s further surprise, Xichen briefly shook his head to dispel his own thoughts and began again, softer this time. “But forget about my feelings. There is something I was afraid to ask, but now I need to know. When you helped me all those years ago…was there some reason for it, beyond simply being my friend and coming to my aid when I needed it? And…when you have sometimes indulged me in times like this…”

Xichen suddenly stopped in the middle of his thought and closed his eyes. One after another, a tear streaked down each of his high, porcelain cheeks, soon followed by more. Yao was stricken into silence by this heartbreaking expression, unable to move.

“…was it always unwillingly?”

Yao felt his mouth open before he could remotely form a reply. But his throat caught when he even tried to make a sound. Was he to blame for Lan Xichen being in this state? He couldn’t understand it. Not any of it. He felt as if he had been shot through, left utterly empty. What should he say?

“I never…” he began, but he realized he didn’t know where to start. What reason could he have had for saving Zewu Jun, other than how precious he was and how empty the world would be without him? He had no idea what that this suspicion of his might be referring to. Indulge him? But surely it was only Lan Xichen’s sympathy that allowed any intimacy between them. Yao was the one being indulged. How could he answer any of this?

Xichen shook his head again, but Yao could see he was still crying, and still refusing to look at him. “I tried, but I’m no good at politics. I couldn’t think of any benefit there could be for you in sharing my friendship. So I thought that must mean you really cared about me.”

The beautiful angel sobbed softly and covered his eyes with his hand. “I’m sorry,” he said, his lip trembling. “Without meaning to…I have ignored your feelings, and forced mine on you. Please, believe me…even if you don’t care about me at all, I would never hurt you, or cause you to lose face. I will still be of any help I can to you. You don’t have to do this, if you wish not to.”

Yao felt as if the earth had cracked beneath his feet. His head ached as tears formed in his own eyes and he stared at the precious creature that his own insecurity had injured. As his hands began to shake, things suddenly became clear. Lan Xichen had somehow come to believe that – as Yao had done to many others – he was using Xichen for political reasons. Therefore, he believed that Yao’s willingness to be intimate with him was just the price he paid for the association. He felt shaken to his core.

For anyone else to think that about him, especially when it was usually true, it might sting, but mostly due to his own guilt at being found out. He never wanted Lan Xichen to know who he really was to begin with. But now, he thought that Yao would use him – the only person he really cared about who was still alive in this world – as a tool. Thinking how he, by the very nature of who he was as a person, had hurt such an innocent creature cut him so deeply it felt like a physical wound. He had never felt so worthless. 

But he quickly realized that this was no time for self-pity. He didn’t know how, but he had to fix this. Say something, anything, he told himself. Just reassure him. Stop being afraid. 

“I…I didn’t…” he fumbled.

“Please,” Xichen said, lowering his hand and placing them both on his knees. Although he still didn’t meet Yao’s gaze, he squared his stance and took a calming breath in. He looked as if he were awaiting execution. “A-Yao. You know I don’t make promises idly. I could never come to hate you, and even if I did, I would never hurt you. If you don’t care for me at all…” he swallowed, took another breath and continued, “…please tell me.”

Yao’s breath was coming in panicked gasps by now, so much so that even Xichen noticed and finally looked up at him. 

“A-Yao?” he said worriedly. “I’m sorry…I was forcing you again…if it’s too hard, you don’t have to tell me. I’m only trying to help…”

“No…” Yao sobbed, putting his face in his hands and shivering. “No…I…”

Yet in his complete inability to reveal how he really felt to the only person he cared about, Yao helplessly crawled forward and tucked himself into the hollow of Xichen’s larger body. He meekly grasped his ribs with the tips of his fingers while hiding his face against Xichen’s chest. 

“A-…A-Yao?” Xichen mumbled in confusion.

“I just…wanted…to tell you how it’s done. That is…sex between men. I was…ashamed. At myself. For being so brazen…as to accept something so precious. I never…meant to make you feel unwanted. And…there has never been a moment that I have not wanted to be closer to you.”

For a tense moment, they remained this way in silence. Yao heard a heavy breath from Xichen. Suddenly his fabric-murdering arms enclosed him in a desperately tight grasp. “A-Yao…” he whispered. And again. “A-Yao…A-Yao…”

Xichen kissed his hair. He stroked his arms, his back, he held his head in both hands and pressed it hard against his chest. Yao whimpered against him, overwhelmed by his warmth and kindness, and the thundering of his noble heartbeat against his cheek. 

“I feel so weak,” Xichen murmured against his hair. “You are so precious, it takes away my strength…I feel as I you’re made of glass. I’m terrified of how much you mean to me.”

Yao chuckled weakly. “I suppose that’s what love is. Giving someone else the power to destroy you.”

“Love…”

Yao gasped. What had he just said? How could he have been so stupid? Even in his battered state, he should have been able to control himself better. It had just slipped out. There was no way to backtrack, it was out now. The forbidden words had left his lips and now his worst crime was laid bare. How could he downplay this? He had to think of something. 

“Yes…” Xichen went on, sounding almost dazed. Though he couldn’t see his face with the way he was held so tightly to his chest, Yao thought he heard a smile in his voice when he spoke again. “You’re right. It’s love. A-Yao…I love you.”

For the next few seconds, after the shock washed over him, Yao slowly began to feel as if one half of him were frozen, the other half burning hot. The angel had said the forbidden words himself. That could not help but send joy flooding every inch of him, but in equal measure he was struck by disbelief. His mind felt like a frozen river, locked and unable to process anything at all. And with it, his heart hardened, echoing the self-doubt and long history of pain that had taught him how to protect himself. 

Impossible, said the darkest part of him. You’re only manipulating him. Look at how trusting he is. He’s defenseless. Anyone could have broken him, you just got lucky. Don’t think for a moment that you even have the skill to deserve the turning of his heart.

In any other case, about any other person, even his own father, the voice of his inner demon was more than enough to rob Yao of any will to chase after something impossible to catch. He was ambitious, but also ruthlessly practical. If anyone else had said they loved him, he might have believed they meant it, but never that the sentiment could be trusted. 

But perhaps it was Xichen’s low, soft voice in his ear, echoing through him. Perhaps it was the warm softness of his skin. Or the sight of him crying moments ago. But every move that Lan Xichen made was so endearing, it made the dark voice in Jin Guangyao’s mind grow a little quieter. It made his desperation to be near him, as well as his fear of trying to possess him, a little softer. And suddenly it was impossible to feel anything but a pure and innocent happiness that, even as a child, Yao had never known. 

He curled up against Xichen’s body, clinging to him like a needy cat. He leaned his face against the crook of his neck, breathing deeply from the mingled scent of his skin and hair. Everything about him was so dear, he wanted to engrave it on his memory. And even though it was forbidden, words of impractical sentimentality slipped from his lips.

“I would run away with you,” he murmured against Xichen’s cheek. The larger man took in a quick breath, and his fingertips tightened against Yao’s back. “To a secret, hidden garden where no one could find us. I’d plant fruit trees, and you would play music. We’d bathe in a waterfall and swim naked, stretching out in the sun to dry. Every day I’d find a new way to cherish you. You would be my whole world, until the day our tired old bones could carry our souls no longer. Then I’d be a koi beneath your lotus petal, forever swimming beneath your reflection and admiring your tenderness for all eternity.”

Xichen took a deep, shaking breath. He gently leaned his cheek against Yao’s, and when he spoke, Yao thought his voice sounded strained as if he would cry again. “You’d share the same petal with me,” he insisted.

Yao chuckled slightly at the absurdity that he would ever even reach nirvana, much less be allowed anywhere near wherever the sainted soul of Lan Xichen ended up. “Who knows? But as much as I would like to, I don’t think that kind of future awaits us.”

Xichen seemed to selectively avoid hearing this last sentiment. He took Yao’s face in his hands and pressed first soft, then demanding kisses to his lips until he had pushed him back against the bed and curled up with him under the blankets. They kissed and touched one another sweetly for what felt like hours, neither getting bored for a moment. Eventually, Yao stroked his face in his hand as he watched him with affection, and finally decided that even if he were wrong, it was worth getting broken.

“Brother. Where can we find something very slippery, like oil?”

Xichen frowned in seeming confusion, and Guangyao felt a brief flutter of guilt resurface at how innocent he was. But this time he would not be a coward. He would not leave this world without knowing what it felt like to feel the full force of Lan Xichen’s love.


	5. Shared Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Zewu Jun is able to feel Yao's love and acceptance, if only for a short while.

Xichen’s heart thundered in his ears at Yao’s request. Though he was ignorant of most things to do with sex, he had a feeling what it was needed for. His chest felt full with happiness at the thought that Jin Guangyao was willing to share everything with him. He reached for the nearest thing that might suit: lamp oil. 

“Will this do?” he asked.

Yao sighed, showing mild disgust. “I suppose. Although I don’t like to imagine the parts of the animal that made that going in such a sensitive area.”

Xichen frowned in surprise. “We use only camellia oil in the Cloud Recesses. It’s quite beneficial for skin, actually.”

“Some time or other,” Yao muttered bitterly. “You could try being less perfect. It would be such a relief to me.”

Xichen felt himself smiling inexplicably, though he gathered he was being insulted. He actually rather liked Yao’s bitter barbs thrown at him, as it was so fresh compared to his normal, strictly controlled state. Thinking about Yao’s sweetness, and his willingness to show his true self in such an intimate setting, he couldn’t hold back his happiness. 

“Yet as you know, I am a fool in most things,” Xichen said gently. “Please instruct me what to do next, Jin-laoshi.”

Yao blushed so hard he looked on the verge of tears. But after he swallowed hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around Xichen’s neck, resting his face in Xichen’s hair. “Dip your fingers in the oil,” he whispered.

“Mm,” he murmured, his heart threatening to burst from his chest. “But…it is rather difficult to see anything from this angle…”

“Which is precisely why I am clinging to you in this unsightly fashion,” Yao hissed with obvious embarrassment. Xichen smiled softly at how dear he was. “You shouldn’t need to see. Just…start by…spreading the oil around. I’ll tell you if you need to change what you’re doing.”

Xichen nodded obediently against his love’s shoulder, adoring the soft scent of his skin. He embraced Yao gently with his other hand, while he brought his moist fingers to his entrance. Yao’s muscles twitched adorably as Xichen’s fingers touched him, and he felt Yao’s hold on him tighten. He spread the oil around and began experimentally pressing his fingertip to the tight hole. 

He gathered from the increase in Yao’s breathing that that was right. Yao’s hips bucked a little each time he pressed his fingertip against the tight muscles there. He was enjoying himself so much in fact, simply feeling and hearing Yao’s reactions against him, that he rather lost track of time. 

“Ngh…enough!” Yao whimpered, his small fingers digging into Xichen’s shoulders. 

“I’m sorry, my love,” he said, quite naturally, even though it was his first time saying those words. He stroked Yao’s hair to calm him even as the smaller man let out a small gasp at hearing them. “What next?”

Yao whimpered again, in irritation this time, burying his head in Xichen’s shoulder and out of sight. “You actually know, don’t you? Your fingers…just one at first…slowly tease m-my hole…until it’s loose enough.”

Xichen had never heard Jin Guangyao trip over his words before. Hearing it made the core of his body and the top of his cheeks feel hot. With his free hand, he held his love closer. “Let me know the first moment if it hurts,” he whispered, his lips brushing Yao’s ear lobe.

“Nh!” Yao moaned, biting his lip to stop from making further noise. 

Xichen let out a soft, shuddering sigh. Normally, Xichen naturally preferred soft sounds or silence at all times. And obviously it was rude to make noise at night in the Cloud Recesses. But the instant he heard Yao’s voice biting back pleasure, he felt a swell of a strange and powerful emotion; he wanted that sound all for himself. He had a brief and irrational thought that he wanted to kill any other man who heard it. And though he honestly would like to hear more, Yao’s valiant attempts to hold back were also somehow extremely arousing.

He focused his concentration on slowly prying open his love’s body, making it ready to accept him and simultaneously evoking more and more desperation in it. When he added a second finger and slowly drove in as deep as it would go, Yao finally bucked his hips and let out a yelp. 

Though he could tell from the honey-like tone in Yao’s voice that the yelp had been a pleasant one, he asked softly, “Did that hurt?”

Yao shook his head against Xichen’s shoulder. “No,” he whispered. “Don’t stop…”

Xichen’s head felt fuzzy for a moment after hearing this. All sentient thought left him as desire filled him like a growing fire, and the most sensitive part of his body began to ache. He slid his fingers in and out with gathering intensity, already picturing filling that hole himself. 

Yao’s petit hips began to twitch in rhythm with the motions of Xichen’s fingers inside him. His fast breathing became more regular and, if possible, his soft moans became even sweeter. Xichen was sure he even felt the muscles inside twitch and tighten over his fingers. He swallowed as his mouth began to water. 

He added a third finger. Yao’s breath caught. His back slowly arched as Xichen’s fingers drove in deeper. Xichen paid close attention to his reactions to avoid hurting him, but far from it, his hips trembled and he finally let out a soft cry. A few heavy gasps, and then he actually lowered his hips further, encouraging Xichen’s fingers even deeper.

Lan Xichen felt something snap inside him. He held Yao against him in an iron grip. And heedless of the outpouring of desperate moans which followed, he thrust his fingers until obscene sounds were emanating from Yao’s hole. 

“Ah! Ah…gh…ah…” Yao was still trying to hold back his voice, and every other moan was punctuated with an enticing gasp or whimper. 

Xichen shuddered and felt his own hips bucking upward in sympathy. In his imagination he was already penetrating his beloved to his deepest point, surrounded in his warmth and coaxing out yet more desperate cries. He barely realized as he began showering Yao’s neck and ear with kisses, which would already have been too much for him. 

Strangled noises emerged from Yao for a few moments and then, just as an explosion of pleasure rattled Xichen’s body too, Yao yelped and threw back his head. Cum splattered against both their chests, and gradually they sank against each other. 

“Brother…” Yao panted in his ear. “Y-…you weren’t…supposed to make me cum…so fast…”

Xichen could barely speak. His head was still swimming, his breathing uneven and raw. “Worse than that…I came without being touched at all…” he admonished himself. He chuckled a little at himself. “How youthful.”

Yao hesitantly took the bait and moved back into Xichen’s line of sight in order to look down and see the cum still dripping from Xichen’s throbbing cock. It still bounced lightly as if reluctant to stop tormenting him with pleasure just yet. Yao’s cheeks went bright red, and he seemed entranced by the sight for some time.

But with his sweet face back in view, Xichen couldn’t hold back from kissing it. He didn’t even stop with Yao’s mouth, one by one kissing every precious little feature. Yao settled his hips down over Xichen’s and allowed Xichen to pull them tightly together as they kissed in the afterglow. 

Xichen was hardly satisfied by just this, and he hoped that after a moment to recover, Yao would indulge him a little more. His hands slowly made their way down his slender body, caressing every ridge and curve as he continued contentedly kissing him. When he playfully strummed his fingers up his spine, Yao let out another adorable yelp and clung to him, whimpering. 

“Zewu Jun…!” he whispered desperately.

Xichen chuckled. “Am I back to being the unapproachable lord again? Call me ‘brother.’ Or A-chen.”

Yao gasped, his fingers trembling over Xichen’s back. He could feel the heat of Yao’s blush as he buried his face in his shoulder. “You can’t be serious.”

“All right,” Xichen said, though secretly a little disappointed. “Well then…baobei?”

To his shock, the embarrassment seemed too great and Yao actually slapped him quite hard on the back. After a moment of unexpected pain, Xichen couldn’t help from laughing out loud with delight, though he quickly apologized to restore Yao’s mood. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Just to show you that there’s nothing standing between you and me anymore. If anyone is going to call me baobei, it’s only you. And you have my permission. And recommendation,” he added, giving Yao a kiss on the top of his cheek. 

“I’ve never willingly let someone embarrass me so much,” Yao complained, eyelashes fluttering over his reddened cheeks. Xichen kissed them again and again to reassure him, until once again Yao was sweetly pliable in his hands. 

He finally returned to his earlier goal of further spreading Yao’s hole. To his relief, rather than request to stop for tonight, when his fingers slipped back inside him, Yao’s back arched and his head fell back, an aching moan echoing from him. Like Xichen, he was still hard after coming. Xichen held him close as if he could feel the sensations in Yao’s body if he kept him close enough.

After only a few moments resuming his teasing, Yao crawled up his body in desperation and whispered in his ear, “Brother…don’t make me wait anymore…”

Xichen let out a shaking breath as heat flooded into the core of his body. He too was struggling to keep his sanity just from hearing Yao’s pleasant moans in his ear. How would it feel to finally be inside him? For Xichen, this was all the marriage ceremony he needed. He felt he would never be this close to anyone again, and the thought that Yao wanted him too was so blissful he almost couldn’t bear it. Taking in a steadying breath, he gently set Yao down on his back on the bed. 

Kneeling over the delicate and beautiful Yao like this, his hair disheveled beneath him, cheeks and lips red and moist from kissing and a quiet pleading in his expression, he seemed even smaller and more precious than ever before. Xichen adoringly kissed his forehead. He savored the soft uptick in Yao’s breathing even from a small gesture like this. 

His heartbeat loud in his own ears, he once again made sure Yao’s entrance was ready for him with his fingers, and finally joined their bodies together. 

At first, he was only able to get the tip in and had to stop. Yao was squeezing him so tightly it was almost painful. He stroked his cheek. “My love…does it hurt?”

“Yes…” Yao gasped, surprising him. He had honestly expected him to lie. But Yao’s face was glowing with warmth and affection, even as his eyes grew moist with tears. He likewise took Xichen’s face in both hands and whispered, “But it’s so good…don’t stop…”

Xichen shuddered and panted roughly, overcome with love and pleasure from feeling Yao’s entrance slowly relax and let him in deeper. He laid his body over Yao’s and held him as he pushed in. Neither could speak for some time as they were overwhelmed with pleasure and fear of each other. Xichen felt something rising up inside him. Something so sacred and true that it scared him, but he couldn’t identify it.

“A-Yao…” he whispered in his beloved’s ear. “A-Yao…A-Yao…A-Yao…!”

He knew it must be hard on Yao’s body, but suddenly he couldn’t stop. His hips began pumping of their own accord, and he clung to Yao for reassurance. But Yao was in a similar state of disarray, his head arching back and moans dripping from him. They grew more and more plaintive as the pace of Xichen’s thrusting increased. Xichen could hear his own voice leaving him in unmanly moans, but there was nothing he could do. 

“A-Yao…!” he gasped again. 

As a wave of pleasure struck him, he grasped Yao under the small of his back and lifted him slightly of the bed to fill him as deeply as he could. He was desperate to reach the deepest point inside him to fill him with his seed. Yao seemed to be coming unraveled, his high voice coming in ragged gasps, his whole body tense and fingernails digging into Xichen’s arms. The slight pain only drove Xichen’s pleasure to greater heights as he shuddered through an incredibly long orgasm. 

All the while, Yao’s body trembled in his arms. Even though his cock remained hard and twitching, Xichen felt sure from the way Yao’s hole was tightening and relaxing around him that Yao had come again too. The delicate man seemed utterly overwhelmed by this and it took him some time to recover.

Xichen slowly lowered him back to the bed and once again surrounded him in his arms. Even though it was somewhat sensitive, he remained inside him, savoring this perfect moment. Yao barely moved during most of this time except to catch his breath. But when it finally seemed he had, his next request shocked Xichen.

“Brother…” he whispered, giving just the lightest touch against Xichen’s back with his fingers. Xichen looked down to meet his eyes and his heart pounded as he saw desire still filling them. With trembling lips, Yao kissed him softly as if begging for food and sweetly murmured, “Again…?”

Xichen trembled too. “Oh…I am so afraid of you…” he gasped, but returned Yao’s kiss with a much fiercer one.

He had no idea how late into the night they were sharing warmth in this way, but he remembered falling asleep in slightly sticky but blissful comfort with Yao’s warm and tender body curled up against him under his heavy winter blankets. Truthfully, like Yao, he had a feeling that whatever happiness the two of them had in this world would not last forever. It was indeed for this reason that Yao scared him so much. But from his own parents’ experience, one thing he would never do was force Yao to change for him, or tie him down. Even if they couldn’t be together, he wanted Yao always to live for himself and be the noble, gracious and beautiful person that he didn’t believe he had the right to be.

He could not know how soon this fragile peace would be tested, by his own brother’s foolishness, and his uncle’s wrath.


	6. Sunset at Yiling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftershock of the fall of Wei Wuxian hurts Lan Xichen more badly than he realizes, and his attempts to restore peace and normalcy to his world lead him to act out against those he cherishes most.

The bloodbath at Nightless City robbed everyone of a sense of security they didn’t know they had to begin with. When they found Lan Wangji, it was worse than Xichen had thought. He was in a cave in the Yiling Burial Mounds. Crouched protectively over a clearly sick and delirious Wei Wuxian, sending him spiritual energy. For all the good it would do. He didn’t even look up as Xichen and the elders arrived. 

“Wangji…” Xichen murmured, feeling as if his own soul were leaving him just at seeing this. He could never have predicted that his own brother, said to be the embodiment of all perfections of the Lan sect, could fall so far for the sake of so flawed and twisted a man.

To no one’s surprise, Hanguang Jun said nothing, nor did he even acknowledge his brother’s presence, or the thirty-three elders behind him. 

“Get lost…” Wei Wuxian mumbled, apparently to Wangji, but his eyes were blank and unfocused. A trickle of blood ran from his nose, and even more worryingly, his ear. But Wangji acted as if he didn’t see it.

“Wangji…!” Xichen said, more loudly. “It’s enough…you can’t help him anymore, you can only hurt yourself. Please leave him there, and come with us.”

Still no answer. Wangji didn’t even look up, just continued silently feeding spiritual energy into the dying Wei Wuxian.

“…he’s killed thousands,” Xichen whispered, in fear and disbelief at Wangji’s continued disobedience. “Wangji. Even if he survives…no one can save him anymore.”

Finally, Wangji’s lips parted. “Don’t you touch him.”

Xichen bit the inside of his lip so hard he tasted metal. He had never been so angry. His brother always had a tendency to be stubborn, and even to put himself in danger, but there was a limit. How could he be so blind to the evil in front of him? To the damage he was doing to himself, just by staying beside this man?

“He has to die,” Xichen hissed. “But you don’t. Come away from him now.”

With that, Lan Wangji got to his feet. Xichen had a brief but irrational thought that for once Wangji was going to listen to him. But one look at Wangji’s steely expression proved him wrong. Though he would have no chance against his own elder brother, much less the elders standing behind him, he fearlessly unsheathed Bichen and tossed the sheath aside. He pointed his sword directly at his brother, cutting straight through his heart with that one moment of betrayal. 

Though he hadn’t been touched by the blade, Xichen felt carved open. He took a shaking breath. But in the end, he too drew Shuoyue. “Foolish child,” he whispered. 

In the end, and only after sustaining multiple severe injuries across the group he had brought with him, they managed to subdue Wangji. In all the confusion, Bichen had made a very minor cut across Xichen’s arm. But it stung as if it had been poisoned, when he thought of who made it. There was no way to get around the fact that his brother had chosen Wei Wuxian over his family, and indeed their entire way of life. As much as Lan Xichen cared for his brother, his betrayal hurt somehow even more than the death of their parents. Yet he could not abandon him. Not after what happened next.

They returned to the Cloud Recesses, the mood thick with despair. Xichen had never seen his uncle so angry. He was so livid he could barely speak. All he did was tersely command some lesser disciples to string Wangji up with his back exposed. And the whipping began.

Though already injured from both the battle in Nightless City and his brother’s forceful retrieval from Yiling, and even with his spiritual power drained to almost nothing, Lan Qiren didn’t let the whipping stop until the sky was already turning dark that day. Xichen’s own heart felt ripped out as he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the mass of blood, ugly white strips of burst fatty tissue, and even exposed bone on Wangji’s back. It was hard to believe he was still alive.

But though Lan Qiren was too angry to do anything more, Xichen made sure that Wangji was carefully brought into the Chamber of Silence. He sent all disciples away. 

Xichen flinched in sympathy to discover that – though his eyes were empty – Wangji somehow still seemed to be conscious. Though he had little left himself, Xichen shared some of his spiritual energy to allow Wangji enough comfort to sleep. The small amount of comfort seemed enough, and gradually Wangji’s eyes grew heavy.

Xichen cared for him long into that night, and was so exhausted that without realizing, he fell asleep while sitting on the floor beside his brother’s bed. Waking the next morning, shivering and feeling battered and horribly uncomfortable, he rubbed the sleep from his face and went to fetch a basin of warm water to clean and re-dress Wangji’s wounds.

Several minutes into the process, Wangji flinched and suddenly his breathing raced. His fists clenched at his sides. Even with his face half buried in the sleeping mat, Xichen could see his neck vein pulsing. He closed his eyes with pity, not wanting to imagine the kind of pain Wangji was in right now.

When he had re-dressed the wounds, he began feeding Wangji yet more spiritual energy to ease his pain. To his shock, only a moment later, Wangji’s lips parted.

“Xiong-zhang…” he said hoarsely through the pain. “…enough. Leave me.”

Xichen made no move to stop what he was doing. “Why?” he asked softly.

“…doesn’t matter,” Wangji grunted, after seeming to struggle to find words.

He at once understood that Wangji meant that healing him wouldn’t make any difference to him, if he couldn’t help Wei Wuxian. His jaw tightened with anger and disbelief that not only did Wangji still care for him, but he showed no care for how worried Xichen was, or how much he had gone through personally to save him. 

“Do you think I have no feelings at all?” Xichen accused in a whisper.

But even at his best, Wangji would have difficulty with such a complicated emotional state as Xichen was trying to express. Now, he seemed to be hanging onto consciousness by a thread. 

Xichen sighed, feeling a little of his soul escape through his lips. “I may have scolded you. I may be angry with you, still. But do you know why?” He waited, but normally wouldn’t expect Wangji to understand his feelings on this matter anyway. “Because you are my brother. There is only one of you and there will never be another. And your suffering…is too hard for me to bear. You may think it is selfish of me. I chose to hurt you over losing you. Can you understand that much?”

Xichen watched Wangji’s stoic profile, though it was still etched with pain despite Xichen’s efforts to relieve it. After a moment, he realized it wasn’t only physical. A tear ran down over Wangji’s nose as he closed his eyes. 

“…where is Wei Ying?” he whispered.

Xichen took in a shaking breath, both in sympathy for Wangji’s loss and equally in frustration and anger at his inability to give him up, even now. “I have heard nothing. But what would you do if you knew? Go to war with a broken back?” he asked, though his tone was pleading. “Wangji. Go to sleep. Do not think of anything now. Heal, or you will never leave this bed again.”

He did not mean it as a threat, but feared Wangji might take it as such. Even so, and though another tear slipped across Wangji’s nose to drip down onto the sleeping mat under his head, he seemed to give in and once again slipped into unconsciousness.

It took weeks for a sense of sanity to return to the cultivation world after the massacre at Nightless City. In that time, there was no news of the body of Wei Wuxian being found. Some speculated that his demonic cultivation had turned against him and consumed him, body and soul. Xichen would not discount any improbability in the case of Wei Wuxian, but he suspected a much less grand death in all honesty. He was one of the few people who knew that Wei Wuxian’s life had always been much less grand, and much more tragic and humble than he made it seem. But as the weeks and months passed, it became clear that he had not survived his own spectacular self-destruction.

Two months after Qiren tore most of the skin from his back, fracturing it in two places, Wangji was still confined to his bed. Though the skin was healing, his muscles had been ripped apart, and he could not exercise them for fear of further damaging his bones. Even Xichen wasn’t sure if he could ever even walk properly again, much less return to cultivation. Xichen played the guqin for him every day, and sometimes the xiao, when he could not bear to see his suffering without expressing his sympathy in his preferred form of music. For Xichen, it was a daily struggle not to be consumed by anger at his brother for allowing himself to reach this state, which just looking upon was painful.

Most of the time, though Xichen knew he was awake, Wangji did not acknowledge his presence. He had always been terse, but now he seemed to have shut down completely. Xichen thought it was just the expected sadness of losing a friend and going through so much pain. But then one day, Wangji’s state of mind really worried him.

“…Wei Ying…where?” the words were half breath, with no strength in them at all. It was late enough in the evening that he might have been tired, or half dreaming but even so, he should be aware by now that there was no chance he was still alive.

Xichen slowly set Liebing down in his lap and lowered his head. He felt helpless in front of what he viewed as his brother’s madness, this unhealthy obsession with Wei Wuxian, which seemed likely to destroy him completely. For a few moments he was torn apart with frustration, and then he thought what it might be like if Jin Guangyao had been the one delirious and half-dead in that cave. 

He asked himself whether he would have fought Wangji to save him, if Jin Guangyao had apparently betrayed their whole society. The answer came and he felt somewhat disappointed with himself: he would not. He would die for Yao’s sake, he thought. Together with him if necessary. Probably he would be just as sick with despair as Wangji was now, but he knew at once, he would not fight the world for him. Did that make him a worse person than Wangji? Or more practical?

Xichen was not sure Wangji was ready for the truth. “…what would you do, if you knew?” he tested him softly, as he had done once before.

Wangji’s fingers twisted in the sheets. He didn’t seem able to respond. Xichen was about to pick up his flute again when Wangji murmured, “…Wei Ying…”

At that point, Xichen reached his limit and had to close his heart off to his brother’s torment. If he didn’t, he knew he would snap, and take it out on him. He took a deep breath, let it out. He brought Liebing to his lips and played a song that he had composed for Jin Guangyao. He didn’t even realize as he was doing it. That was just the only thing he could think of to give Wangji some comfort. 

Soon his breathing slowed, and Xichen sensed that he was asleep. He set down Liebing again, and tried to come to terms with the fact that if his brother ever did get better, it would not be soon. 

Months passed without much change, either in their lives in the Cloud Recesses or in Wangji’s state. He did eventually seem to come to his senses, more or less, but then he stopped talking altogether, no matter who spoke to him. He could still barely move, or so it seemed. Xichen kept checking the nerve function in his legs and at least there seemed to be no major problems, but certainly one couldn’t be too careful with back injuries.

One night, Xichen went in to play for Wangji, and his breath caught with shock. When he saw the empty bed, his fingers slipped and he nearly dropped Liebing to the floor. 

He didn’t know where Wangji could have gone. Except to Yiling. But there was no way Wei Wuxian could still be alive. He should know that. Had he truly lost his mind? And now, if Xichen went after him again, revealing what he had done, there would be no way to save him from their uncle this time. But how could he even move in that state? Even without the pain of the wounds, each twitch of the muscles in his back should have been agony, if they worked for him at all. Xichen covered his eyes in his hand, despair creeping over him like a curtain.

To his shock, Wangji returned the same day. But not alone. 

Looking dead on his feet, Wangji slowly staggered into the courtyard, in front of his brother, uncle, and half a dozen disciples. But he held securely in his arms a tiny bundle. Even though he looked feverish himself, he treated the object as if made of glass, coveting it against his chest. At first he wouldn’t let anyone else near it. 

With half lidded eyes, he caught sight of Xichen. He approached him and gently pressed the bundle into his arms before sliding to the ground to rest there on his knees. As soon as he was beneath him, Xichen saw Wangji’s back was spotted with blood from reopened wounds. 

“Take him to his chamber!” Xichen shouted in an uncharacteristically harsh tone. 

The nearby disciples hurriedly encircled Wangji and helped him to his feet, thence to his chamber where they were conscientious enough to start looking after his injuries. Meanwhile, Xichen had to deal with the fact that, as soon as he touched it, he realized it was a living child that Wangji had forced into his arms. Although only just barely.

Lan Qiren staggered over to him in disbelief as Xichen parted the cloth that had been wrapping the child in order to see a tiny, warm and feverish face. Qiren seemed about to choke on his own tongue.

“What’s he done?!” he hissed. “This child…is this…?!”

“Uncle,” Xichen said quickly. “We don’t have time to argue. This child is at death’s door.”

Qiren seemed to be fighting with himself, his propriety over his morality, which were usually not in conflict and therefore this and every betrayal of Wangji’s up to now were agonizing for him. But after a second glance at the weakly breathing little bundle in Xichen’s arms, he relented. He gestured roughly toward the infirmary. 

Together, they staved off the impending fate of this unfortunate child by giving him some medicine, getting him warm and managing to get him to drink some water. But then he, like Wangji, seemed exhausted and simply curled up like a stray kitten beside Xichen’s leg. Helplessly, Xichen stroked the matted and dirty head. 

Qiren was shaking his head firmly. “What can be done? This sickness is not leaving him, no matter what we try.”

Xichen realized of course that he wasn’t talking about the child. He sighed heavily, continuing to stroke the child’s head unconsciously. “He may simply need more time, Uncle. I understand your feelings. But please be lenient with Wangji for a little while longer.”

Qiren’s jaw tightened. “I never thought I would raise a cut-sleeve,” he muttered, half under his breath.

Xichen’s lips parted. His hand on the child’s head froze. He thought he understood why his uncle was angry at Wangji. He was too, after all, and he didn’t care as much as his uncle did about the eyes of others. But on some level he had always thought Lan Qiren would be more understanding about that issue. After all, the Lan sect was forgiving of only one vice, and that was love. It had never occurred to Xichen that gender would be a barrier, especially when – for his father – even murder hadn’t been.

So did Qiren really think of cut-sleeves as being worse than that? Or was it his trauma over their father’s mistakes? Or were Wei Wuxian’s other qualities, so abhorrent to everything the Lan sect stood for, simply aggravating an already existing prejudice in him? At that moment it didn’t really matter what the reason was. Xichen’s world still felt shaken, and his heart broken to be rejected by his only other living family member, and not even intentionally.

He felt frozen for some time, the pain deep in his chest seeming to infect his limbs as well as his mind. He focused his attention on the child, wondering what would become of him. He knew at once, as no doubt his uncle did as well, that there was only one reason Wangji would take in a child, and that was if there was some connection to Wei Wuxian. Most likely, this was the last living member of the Wen clan. But even though Xichen was shocked at Wangji’s audacity to think he could disobey his uncle yet again, something to focus his attention might in fact be the only thing that could save Wangji now.

Only three days after this incident, Jin Guangyao came to call on Lan Xichen, innocent of all the uproar Wangji had so recently caused and Lan Qiren had quickly buried from the world.

Xichen met him in his study and poured tea for both of them as if nothing was wrong, but he was sure he was not able to keep his worries from his face. 

Indeed, he sensed Yao was starring at him. He attempted a smile, but Yao’s concerned face only grew more so. “Brother…” Yao murmured, setting down his tea. “You look exhausted. Have you slept?”

Xichen breathed out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes, realizing they felt sore because he indeed had barely slept. “A-Yao…I’m afraid it would be best…if we didn’t meet. For the foreseeable future.”

Once the words were out, and he saw the look of controlled shock, which he retrained only to a slight flutter of his eyes, pass over Yao’s face, he felt as if he had broken something beautiful. Yao’s lips parted and for a moment is seemed as if he would attempt to act his way out of an undesirable conclusion. But then the delicate man swallowed. His eyes turned downward. The worst part was that he looked as if he had been expecting this. 

Xichen had a sudden rush of doubt, and nearly reached out to pull the sweet creature into his arms. He told himself he was only thinking about sorting through Wangji’s problems before doing selfish things on his own. But Lan Qiren’s half muttered comment had been repeating in his mind over and over. 

Cut-sleeve…cut-sleeve…

“Of course,” Yao murmured, without looking at him. “But…how long?”

Xichen’s hand tightened over his knee. Even though up until now, Yao showing the slightest interest in proactively seeking him out would only have brought him joy, suddenly he felt uncomfortable. His jaw tightened and, out of politeness, he declined to answer. 

Yao’s eyes fluttered again while looking up at him and waiting for him to respond. A flush of frustration and shame bloomed over his face. “I see,” he said, the control returned to his voice. “The Lan Clan Leader has finally come to his senses.”

Xichen felt sick to his stomach, not fully understanding Yao’s meaning but unable to extricate himself from the bitterness swirling inside him. “I what?” he asked softly.

Yao actually smiled a little, but there was deep pain and resentment echoing inside his eyes. “I’m praising you. Late is better than never for realizing you’ve done something wrong, Brother. Too late to return back what I took from you, but better than nothing.”

“What…you took?” Xichen repeated in disbelief. He knew it was all his fault. It actually made him angry that Yao still seemed to have such insecurity that he was taking blame for something he hadn’t done. Why was this going so wrong?

Yao was already getting to his feet. He clasped his hands before himself and bowed in a way he hadn’t done in months. “I won’t disturb you any more then, Brother.”

Xichen’s chest felt as if it had been caved in. He was frustrated, angry and – as he soon realized – terrified. But he couldn’t bring himself to raise a hand or a voice to stop Yao from leaving. 

Instead, Yao’s footsteps faltered as they crossed behind Xichen’s back at the door. A shaking breath. Xichen’s heart splintered apart with every passing moment. 

“So…you won’t even tell me why?” Yao whispered softly. The sound of his voice, so small and at Xichen’s back, was pitiful.

Yet Yao’s insistence only made Xichen’s determination to return his life to the way it should be even stronger. He closed his eyes, and gradually his heart, just as he had done with his brother. “There’s…really nothing to tell,” he found the words tumbling out, simply trying to find some excuse for hurting Yao even more by telling him what his uncle had said about people like him.

“Ah…right you are,” Yao murmured, sounding numb. “You never needed to explain yourself to me anyway. But…if I may ask one last indulgence from you, Brother…”

He softly stepped up behind Xichen and leaned over to speak quietly in his ear. 

“…the next time you think you are in love…” Yao whispered. He stopped himself and then continued, after thinking it over, “…be more sure of it first.”

With that, all Xichen’s resolve was shattered. He sat in the echo of Yao’s softly spoken words as day turned into night, this time frozen not by his own will but by shame and despair.


	7. Ice and Steam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jin Guangyao tries to return to normal life without Zewu Jun beside him, but finds it more difficult than he realized. At his father's funeral, he finally meets Lan Xichen again, and is shocked to find him looking gaunt and sickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for talk of eating disorders.

Jin Guangyao would never admit this to anyone, but that night, he screamed into a pillow and cried until he was tired. He hadn’t done that since he was a child. Of all people, he thought Lan Xichen was one of the easiest to read. But as he said those words, innocuous words that should never have hurt so much, Yao couldn’t read him at all. Of course, what did it matter? Yao had been waiting for this day to come, he knew eventually Zewu Jun would realize the mistake he’d made. He just thought it would take longer.

But even if one’s heart is broken, life still goes on. Though he knew nothing of the child taken in by the Lan, there was another whose life he felt wholly responsible for. Much though his revenge ran deep, even Yao could not quite bring himself to hate an infant. Particularly an orphaned one. And in this case, not feeling responsibility for that unique circumstance would have been impossible.

Whenever Jin Guangshan – even more protective of the child since his son’s death – was busy, Yao allowed Jiang Wanyin here to see his nephew. Now, he sat listlessly staring at his sister’s child, who was fussing slightly in his crib. Jiang Cheng’s eyes were constantly a shade of red these days. Even so, he treated the child with only gentleness. He reached a thick, battle-calloused hand into the crib to give the baby something to grasp on to for security, and immediately the child settled contentedly. 

Yao had noticed Jiang Cheng often frowning curiously at the boy, in between blank and melancholic expressions. He finally realized the source of that confusion. 

“You’re trying to tell which one he looks more like?” he guessed softly.

Jiang Cheng didn’t answer, but his eyebrows twitched in a miniscule expression of pain. 

Yao approached and gazed on little Jin Ling’s face over Jiang Cheng’s shoulder. He didn’t want to say so in front of Jiang Cheng, but there was no doubt in his mind this child took after his father. Even so…

“…he has Jiang Yanli’s eyes. There is no doubt about that,” he murmured.

Jiang Cheng’s face twisted as he held back a sob. But he restrained himself, pushing down his emotions as was the constant source of his explosive temper. He took in a breath and let it out, lifting his hand to softly stroke the peach fuzz on the baby’s head. 

“Yes,” he said in a hoarse whisper. But the next moment, he got to his feet, wiping away traces of tears. “I didn’t come here for any reason today. I’ve imposed too long.”

“Don’t be silly. Jin Ling is your family too. You are always welcome.”

Jiang Cheng cast a doubtful glance his way, but dutifully bowed, which Guangyao copied. He left without further argument. Alone with Jin Ling, Yao smiled down at the tragic boy, who despite everything his father had represented, for Yao was his one source of pure joy. Part of him believed that he could spare this child his own fate. And perhaps for that reason, only in the company of Jin Ling, he felt he wasn’t the monster he had become.

Time went on with no word from Zewu Jun; weeks, then months. Jin Guangyao focused his attention on serving his family, increasing their wealth and influence, and serving his father’s interests. But as time passed, especially without Lan Xichen’s calming influence, his resentment toward his own father – and in particular the way he was protective of Jin Ling towards him – grew to a boiling point. 

It was around this time that he overheard his father say the worst thing imaginable. After calling his mother “troublesome” simple for being able to read, his only thoughts on the existence of Jin Guangyao, “The son? Forget it, forget it.” 

Those words broke something inside Yao. He was so angry and broken that for several days he didn’t even realize what he was doing as he made his plans for revenge, and without a thought, put them into motion. If there had been anything good left in him after orchestrating the downfall of Wei Wuxian, Jin Zixuan and Jin Zixun, and finally the only one other than Lan Xichen that he had cared about, Nie Mingjue, he knew that with this – patricide, the worst crime of all – he had let it all go.

It was not until the public funeral of Jin Guangshan that he saw Lan Xichen’s face again. It had been over a year since they had met. He told himself he had already forgotten whatever happened between them. He mentally prepared himself that it was likely he would see him on this day, and rehearsed what he would say if small talk were required. But the moment he accidentally met Zewu Jun’s eyes from across the courtyard, he felt as if a fresh cut had torn his chest open. He kept this from his face and let himself conduct affairs of his house with his heart closed off from the world.

At one point he was called to leave the gathering to attend to sect business. As he was returning, he was shocked to see a tall figure in ice blue, seemingly waiting for him. After a moment to recover from the surprise, he bowed slightly. He pointedly avoided looking up anywhere near Lan Xichen’s face.

“Brother,” he forced himself to say. “Thank you for coming. Is anything the matter?” he added quickly, hinting that he shouldn’t really have gone wandering around the compound on his own.

“No…I’m sorry,” Xichen murmured, as always sensitive and kind. But though Yao had tried to spare his heart by not looking at him, hearing his gentle voice was somehow even worse. A long moment of silence passed between them as Xichen seemed to be forming the right words. “I only wanted to ask…if there was anything I could do to help.”

Yao again closed off his heart and painted a smile on his face, finally meeting Xichen’s gaze. “The guest at a funeral should never be expected to help. Your presence is more than enough. I’m sure the clan leader can be at peace.”

Though he had planned to say all these things, and did so while strictly holding back his emotions, as he looked fully at him he was able to notice how drawn and thin Lan Xichen’s face was. He had always had an ethereal quality to him, but now he looked to be willing to depart his mortal shell at any moment. His sunken cheeks, and the way his collarbones and wrists jutted out made Yao’s jaw clench unconsciously with worry. How could he be so noticeably thinner? Was he ill? Suddenly, he had a horrible thought.

What if there were something else bothering Lan Xichen, something that had caused him to break off their relationship regardless of how he actually felt? If so, wouldn’t that mean that Yao in fact been the one to abandon him, and not the other way around? But he cast this thought away as soon as he had it. No, that was simply too convenient. Likely, Lan Xichen’s current state had nothing to do with him, while breaking things off in fact did. Though still stinging with the pain of rejection, he couldn’t bear to see Zewu Jun looking like this.

“Brother,” he said as his smile faded, even while knowing that their very last conversation had started with him being overly nosy, just as he was now. He swallowed his fear of being rejected yet again and continued, “Are you eating?”

A flicker of some deep emotion passed over Lan Xichen’s face. As Jin Guangyao watched, his eyes seemed to grow moist and red, but no tears fell. “You’re…kind to worry…” he managed softly. “Perhaps it’s just getting older. Somehow I don’t have much appetite recently.”

“It’s…none of my business, brother, but perhaps you should consult a healer.”

Zewu Jun nodded numbly. “Perhaps you’re right.”

“Well then…I should be getting back to the other guests,” Yao said, striving to maintain his demeanor as host. “If you need to rest, please tell one of the servants and they will show you to a room.”

Xichen drew in a sharp breath. “A-Yao…”

Yao froze as he felt a hesitant grasp on his arm. For once in his life, no options occurred to him at all for how to deal with this. He didn’t understand Lan Xichen at all. He couldn’t think of a reason he would want to see Yao alone to begin with, and his gaunt appearance had shocked him even more. Now, preposterously, he was reaching out for Yao as he had done before. To tell him he had changed his mind? 

Yao’s jaw tightened. Even if it were true, he could not forgive that. With an ego as fragile as his, someone who shattered it could never be forgiven anyway. But after he had warned Xichen, at least twice, that his actions could easily break Yao into a million pieces, he was incredulous that he might be trying again. 

Yet as much as he repeated these thoughts in his mind, he desperately fought the urge to cry and surround himself in Xichen’s arms. More than just his warmth and touch, Yao had missed his presence in his life like he missed the sun. Like he missed color. He hadn’t even realized how gray and cold his world had been since Xichen had abandoned him. To show him a hint of vibrancy again, while in the intervening time he had only become more twisted and less worthy of love than before, was too cruel.

“Don’t…” Yao began. 

Xichen’s fingers tugged at his sleeve, in an utterly childish way that Yao couldn’t quite believe, until the motion was followed by a rustle of fabric and a heavy thud against the floor.

Yao whirled to stare down at the heap of icy blue, pallid white skin and lustrous black hair crumpled on the marble floor. His mouth fell open and for an incomprehensible moment he just stared. His mind couldn’t keep up with what was happening. But then he realized this was an emergency and he quickly called for help, gathering the bony Xichen into his arms and trying to feel his qi for what was wrong with him.

Less than an hour later, after most of the funeral guests had been sent home, the Jin Clan doctor had examined Xichen and gave his diagnosis.

“…malnutrition?” Yao whispered. 

By now a worried gaggle of Lan disciplines were straining at the door of Lan Xichen’s guest chamber to hear. Neither Lan Qiren nor Lan Wangji had accompanied the current Lan sect leader to the funeral today due to ill health themselves. Though the disciples were clearly concerned, it was also clear they had no influence over their clan leader’s behavior. Yao’s heart thundered in his throat. 

What if he died?

The thought sent waves of panic through his body. He realized at that moment that he couldn’t bear to live in a world without Lan Xichen in it. Nothing else mattered to him anymore. Xichen could hate him or reject him all he liked. He would find some way, whether by persuasion, manipulation or outright coercion, to save this man. No matter what. 

“It’s a simple enough matter,” the doctor was saying, though Yao heard a ringing in his ears and didn’t catch all of it. “He’s still young. There are no other major issues. Just start him slowly on broth, then more solid foods.”

Yao shook his head to dispel the cloud of anxiety inside him. “Wait…I don’t understand. What’s causing it?”

The doctor raised an eyebrow in a look that was almost like pity. “Clan Leader…I’m not a priest. I don’t know how to tell you a reason. There’s absolutely no food in his system, so at the very least he hasn’t eaten in the last week.”

Yao’s head was spinning. Clan Leader…he had been called that all day, but now it really struck him how preposterous it seemed for him to be called the leader of the most powerful clan in the cultivation world. He felt irrationally angry, he couldn’t even say at whom. Lan Xichen, he supposed. How could he let himself get into this state? What could possibly be happening at the Cloud Recesses? Did it have something to do with Lan Wangji’s persistent illness, that no one seemed to be able to name the cause of? He had to know more.

He sent the doctor away, along with a pair of servants to fetch whatever kind of broth was immediately available. In the meantime, he approached some of the Lan disciples. 

With an air of polite restraint, he asked them as a group, “Forgive me. Is there one of you who could tell me something of the current situation in the Cloud Recesses?”

The disciples seemed concerned, looking nervously at one another. One of them ventured, “With respect, Clan Leader Jin, why is it you want to know that?”

“Mm,” he agreed, while holding back monstrous anger at these incompetents for letting Xichen get like this. “Forgive my prying. I’m concerned about Brother’s health. I wondered if there might be a reason he’s not eating.”

One of the disciples clapped a hand over his mouth as if a suspicion had been confirmed. “I knew it…he’s not eating…”

Some of the others looked over and mumbled with surprise. One of them piped up, “What do you mean, Zhu He?”

The one called Zhu He shrank before their collective gaze. “I’ve been on Zewu Jun’s dinner duty this week, me and Wang Huan. He kept sending it back…saying he’d already had it from Wang Huan. But I asked Wang Huan and he said the same thing.”

Jin Guangyao took a deep breath to control his impatience and anger. At least they weren’t consciously aware of it, but how gullible were these Lan disciples? “Yes, Zewu Jun is courteous to a fault, and I’m sure doesn’t want to worry you. Now please tell me what might be causing him to lose his appetite, and if I can, I will lend your clan all the assistance you require.”

Like night and day, the disciples fervently described the situation that seemed to have been worrying them for some time. This was how Jin Guangyao learned about Wei Wuxian’s last flicker of presence in the world in the form of the child – whom he guessed even without the disciples being aware of it themselves must be the last remaining Wen. Of Lan Wangji’s further disobedience and broken back, Lan Qiren’s worsening illness of the lungs, and Lan Xichen seemingly taking responsibility for all of it onto himself. That was certainly enough to cause anyone stress. He felt there was a piece still missing, but the disciples were now so eager to help that he was confident, whatever it was, they didn’t have it. 

He arranged sleeping quarters for all of them and told them to relax, not to crowd Zewu Jun. He accepted the broth his servants brought and went in to see if Xichen were able to drink it. He was surprised to find him awake, his arm crossed over his eyes in an expression of shame. Yao sighed a little, pretending his heart didn’t ache just to be in the same room with him. 

“Brother,” he said softly, kneeling on the mat beside the bed. “It’s A-Yao. Do you know where you are?”

Xichen gave a soft, self-deprecating chuckle. “Crashing your father’s funeral. I’m so sorry, A-Yao…”

“The only thing you should feel sorry for is starving yourself,” Yao responded. “Brother…there are things I would like to say, but first, can you drink some broth at least?”

Lan Xichen slowly removed his arm from over his eyes and looked down at Yao’s lap, where he was resting the bowl of broth, steam gently rising from it. His heart pounded as he thought shamefully that the steam against his cheeks might make him appear to be blushing just to be in Zewu Jun’s presence. Not that that was far from the truth.

Xichen seemed tormented, looking at it. “I’m sorry,” he said again, softly.

“What for this time?” Yao demanded, losing his patience. “I assure you, I wasn’t asking for an apology. And I will not waste any more of your energy with speech until I see you eat something. Do not force my hand, Brother.”

Xichen suddenly nodded obediently. “I’m sorry, Clan Leader Jin,” he said, and without another word, sat up and accepted the bowl from him with slightly shaking hands. 

While Yao was dealing with the shock of the distancing way he had referred to him just now, along with Lan Xichen’s inability to do anything but apologize to him, Xichen steadily drank down the broth. He didn’t even show any hesitation, only giving Jin Guangyao more confusion about his state of mind. 

“So it isn’t that you’re sick…” Yao murmured, as Xichen lowered the bowl to his lap. 

“I…no. I just…seem not to be…” But in the middle of his sentence, sadness rippled over Xichen’s face. He covered his eyes again with his hand. “I shouldn’t have come…I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize to me for,” Yao whispered to keep his voice from breaking. But at last he couldn’t stop the tears anymore. He was so frustrated with the way Xichen was behaving and the state of his health that his mask had fallen and he couldn’t get it back. As they dripped down his face, he went on, “If you’re tormented by some sort of guilt toward me, I promise you, it is unnecessary. I never felt more than comradeship for you, and I still do. There is no love lost between us.”

Xichen slowly lowered his hand. He gazed listlessly at the blankets in front of him with an expression like the sky had gone dark. “Yes…I know.”

But just as Yao was struggling to cope with what he had just said, Xichen clapped a hand over his mouth as if he would throw up. Yao grasped his shoulders without thinking. “Brother! What is it? What’s the matter?!”

Xichen took shaking breaths until the feeling seemed to pass, and then lowered his head. “Perhaps…just drinking it too quickly…I’m all right. I’m sorry.”

The fifth apology was the last one Yao could take. “Brother…for the last time, you don’t need to be sorry. I was the one who was wrong. I played with your emotions, just like I do with everyone.”

Xichen blinked up at him, finally seeming surprised. “You did?” he asked. Somehow, he didn’t seem upset.

Yao managed a difficult smile, though he was sure his cheeks still showed evidence of his tears just now. “You shouldn’t be so trusting, Brother. Someday someone even worse than me will take advantage of you,” he said, though in his heart he questioned whether there were such a one. He wordlessly took the bowl from Xichen’s lap and started to leave. “If you think there’s anything else you can eat, I’ll let the servants know and they’ll have it ready for you.”

“Wait…!”

Yao was halfway out the door but obediently paused, preparing himself for Xichen to say some other heartbreaking thing, as he was somehow sure he would. 

“I…I’m not expecting anything,” Xichen murmured. “I understand your feelings. And I won’t apologize anymore. But, if we are still brothers, and you still feel I am your comrade…A-Yao, would you stay with me and keep me company, just for a little longer?”

By the end of this softly spoken plea, Yao’s eyes were blinded by tears. He was too ashamed to turn around. Nevertheless, there was no corner of his heart left where he could hide from wanting to grant Lan Xichen’s slightest whim. He took in a calming breath. He wiped his face of tears. 

“That’s an odd request. But of course I don’t mind,” he said, hoping his voice sounded normal. Finally he was able to turn back. He set the bowl aside and knelt again beside Xichen’s bed. “I would offer to play you something on the guqin, but I’m afraid my skills would only irk you. So how about some idle conversation?”

Xichen’s face immediately brightened, and for a moment he looked years younger. He nodded.

“Well then. What shall we talk about?”

Xichen considered, only for a moment. He smiled down at Yao and said, “Could you tell me about your day?”


	8. Spring Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xichen slowly recovers from the stress of being apart from Yao. When he finally resolves to give him up, a very wet visitor arrives to the Cloud Recesses.

The road to Xichen’s recovery was not smooth. He formally requested of Jin Guangyao that he be able to stay in Carp Tower until he had his strength back, which to his relief Yao agreed to. He still seemed to lack an appetite, and often neglecting eating unless someone sat with him and made sure he did. He had trouble sleeping, and eventually was only able to do so if Yao came and played the guqin for him, which was a difficult conversation as Yao remained reluctant to play in front of him due to insecurity about his skills. Xichen had lost a lot of muscle and getting back to his former strength was difficult, as he felt exhausted all the time. 

Through it all, the most difficult part was the thought which kept repeating over and over inside his mind, any time too much silence fell around him: I made a mistake. I made a mistake. I made a mistake.

For many reasons, he couldn’t tell Yao about this. Instead, he took joy in any time they were able to spend together, and did his best to cultivate gratitude for a world that had Jin Guangyao in it. He knew the sooner he succeeded in doing that, the sooner he could stop being a burden on those around him.

He worried all the time about Yao getting tired of his presence, so as soon as he was on his feet again, he took to walking around Carp Tower rather than bother Yao. Even though walking in a bustling place like this was not as meditative as the Cold Pond or his meditation room, it was pleasant to find ways to appreciate the environment that Yao called home.

One day during such a walk, he chanced upon Yao himself, playing with the young Jin master in a sunny spot in the courtyard. The toddler, Jin Ling, already had a rather pouty and fierce personality, but clung to his uncle Guangyao whenever anyone else tried to take him. Xichen didn’t even realize how inappropriate he was being as he watched them from a distance with an aching smile on his face and vision blurry with tears. 

The way Yao had resented his whole family, been beaten and cast out at every turn, and yet held such tenderness for this little innocent, it could not fail to move anyone, much less someone who was already so deep in love with him it was painful. Despite how much it hurt simply to care this much about someone, the sight filled Xichen with happiness in deep parts of him that he barely knew existed. He didn’t know how long he watched them, but long enough for his face to start to feel numb in the early spring breeze.

But Xichen’s eyes slowly turned toward the ground as he thought of his brother and the tiny orphan he had brought home with him to the Cloud Recesses. Xichen was abandoning them now by getting so wrapped up in his own problems. It was no different than Wangji turning against him, and it hurt even more how much he understood that now. He knew he couldn’t stay here forever. Yet part of him felt that if he left Yao right now, there would be nothing left attaching him to this world.

He found a quiet rock garden in the far interior of Carp Tower and produced Liebing. He took a few moments to compose to match the way he was feeling. When he brought Liebing to his lips and let out the first few soft notes, he felt as he always did the power of music to pull out all the poison inside him. In his head he imagined a guqin accompaniment, and spent nearly an hour enjoying his fantasy of Yao playing beside him, producing great beauty together.

He had his eyes closed for much of this, and did not realize that he had an audience until after he had finished. He set down Liebing in his lap and looked out over the rock garden. His breath caught as he saw Yao listening with his head down, leaning against a pillar not far away. Yao wiped his eyes with his sleeve as he noticed Xichen stop playing. 

“Sorry to intrude, Brother,” he said, but made no move to draw closer.

Xichen got up instead and approached him with a joyful smile. “You’re always welcome, A-Yao. You’re a very good audience.”

For some reason, there was a flash of bitterness across Yao’s face, and he didn’t meet Xichen’s eyes. But then he smiled politely. “You’re too modest. There’s no human or beast that doesn’t enjoy the sound of your xiao. How are you feeling today?”

“Very well. I saw you playing with Master Jin Ling earlier. Is he growing well?” Xichen asked, unable to stop himself from wanting to know more about the parental relationship Yao seemed to be building with the child.

Yao chuckled. “Oh yes. He’s a difficult one, mind you. But it’s a great relief how strong he is.” Yao’s smile slowly faded. “Very few people could go through what he has and remain whole.”

Xichen’s heart ached for the Jiang and Jin families equally and he nodded. “It is at least one blessing that he is too young to really know what has happened.”

Yao nodded as well, although his heart didn’t seem in it. He seemed to want to change the topic, and looked up at Xichen with mild suspicion. “Brother…are you really taking care of yourself? You still look very thin and tired.”

Yao’s concern was all the medicine he needed, he thought, but at the same time felt a flicker of guilt at continuing to rely on him this way, someone whom he had hurt and rejected, and who had probably never loved him to begin with. 

He opened his mouth to apologize for staying so long, but remembered how angry Yao had been when he kept apologizing on the day of Jin Guangshan’s funeral. He closed his mouth to conjure better words. Unfortunately, his better emotions unlocked the forbidden feelings he still held for the precious creature in front of him. 

“A-Yao…” he murmured. “What if…if neither of us had a family, or sect…if we found that hidden garden you talked about, and you planted fruit trees and I played music…would you stay there, and would you be happy with me?”

Xichen didn’t know what he was expecting by asking something so outrageous. He was convinced that if Yao ever felt anything for him, it was closer to friendship or obligation. Asking this would only hurt both of them. But he didn’t expect it to hurt Yao so much.

The young Jin clan leader was looking up at him with horror and incredulity. Tears formed in his eyes as his long lashes fluttered and he seemed to being trying to control his breathing. “You cruel…” he whispered, and his voice broke. He turned away, covering his face with his hand. 

“A-Yao…!” Xichen cried worriedly, trying to reach out for him.

Yao saw him and flinched out of his way. A deep wound formed in Xichen’s heart at how thoroughly Yao rejected his touch. Yao took in shaking breaths and repeatedly wiped tears from his eyes even though they kept falling anyway. 

“…heartless…cold…” Yao muttered, softly as if to himself. “…why can’t I see what’s going on in your head? You’re so simple, yet you keep catching me off guard. It’s shameful, how much I let you hurt my pride.”

“A-Yao…?” Xichen really couldn’t follow what he was talking about, and was afraid of being rejected again by pushing him.

“All right, fine. You want to hear it? Since it seems the only way to satisfy you and I can’t bear seeing your sad face around this place any longer. I lied. Are you happy?”

Xichen blinked in total confusion. He didn’t know what Yao was talking about in the first place, only that he seemed to be trying to be cruel. “A-Yao…what do you mean?”

Yao bit his lip as yet more tears fell down his cheeks and he kept his gaze trained to the ground, far away from where Xichen was. “The time I said I never loved you. That was the lie. Not the rest. The little fantasy I told you that time…sure, that was true.”

Like the sun bursting through clouds after a storm, the whole world in Xichen’s gaze suddenly brightened. The crying Yao before him was more adorable to Xichen than ever before, and now it seemed as if – just for the sake of him – the flowers frozen by winter had revived and all the world had turned to spring. In spite of his fear, he reached out for him again, only to be stopped by a glare.

“Don’t you touch me. I’m not done.”

“A-Yao…”

“My feelings…were never a question,” Yao went on, keeping his voice to a whisper to avoid it cracking as he cried. “Do you realize how long I’ve been in love with you? I doubt you remember. When we met, the way you smiled at me, as if you were utterly ignorant of what the world calls people like me. You didn’t hesitate to touch me. You don’t know…you can never understand what that felt like. But that doesn’t matter does it?

“I’m telling you this because you don’t seem to be able to let it go, to just leave things as they were before and go back to your clouds and music and perfection. Not because I want sympathy, not because I need you. I don’t. I’m telling you to show you what love is, since you don’t seem to understand. Do you see now? I love you too much to let you burden yourself with me. I know you’re just confused and lonely and anyone would do, so I’m telling you, go find anyone! You know you can’t love me no matter how much you try, so go!”

At that point Yao was crying too hard to continue, and he hunched in on himself with his face buried in his hands, shaking from head to foot. Xichen would never have imagined he would live to see Jin Guangyao crying so hard. Even so, the things he had just been told were so painful that he could barely react.

For a painfully long time, Xichen stood silently beside him as Yao sobbed and cried openly like a child, wiping his face with shaking hands over and over. Every inch of Xichen’s body told him he needed to hold this precious person. But he knew he didn’t have that right anymore.

“My uncle…” he murmured.

Eventually, Yao managed to quiet himself enough to listen again. He looked up bitterly, not expecting much. “What about him?”

“…he almost killed Wangji. Whipped him until his back was broken.”

“Yes…?” Yao muttered suspiciously, obviously not following why he was bringing this up.

Xichen took in a shaking breath. He felt it was utterly wrong of him to burden Yao with this, but he was overwhelmed by the honesty he had just been shown. He couldn’t hold anything back from him anymore. “I thought I knew why he was so angry. My uncle loves order. More than most. Wei Wuxian was disorder in every way, so I could see why he would hate him. But it wasn’t just that.”

Xichen turned Liebing over in his hands, searching for some comfort to continue telling one of the most painful things in his memory. “He was appalled…that he had raised a ‘cut-sleeve.’”

Yao accepted this with a long moment of thought. Eventually his anger and sadness seemed to fade, although unfortunately he didn’t seem relieved, as Xichen hoped he would. He realized he would have to tell him everything. His eyes began to sting as he thought there was no hope in telling him this late, but he had to do so anyway, or Yao’s pain right now would be entirely his fault.

“I was afraid. I worried my family would be gone from me if I didn’t hold it together. And because of that fear…I made a mistake.” He lowered his gaze, unable to bear the shame of looking at Yao anymore. “I made a mistake,” he said again softly, finally airing the feelings that had been tormenting him the last few weeks. “You did nothing wrong…but I pushed you away…for the sake of a moment’s fear.”

But when he looked up at Yao again, none of this seemed to have had any impact on him. In fact, he gave that same polite smile that he had been giving him all this time. “I see. Thank you. Now I understand.”

“Do you…?” Xichen whispered, feeling anger building up at Yao distancing himself yet again.

“Yes. But I already did, long ago,” Yao went on, his face hardening. “I told you, didn’t I? Before I ever let you touch me, I told you. Being with me was a mistake; that was the wrong, not letting me go. I told you…you shouldn’t have ever let yourself feel attached to a son of a whore. I told you to find someone better, and yet not only did you not listen to me, you now seem to be torturing yourself with guilt over it.”

Xichen tried to understand what he was saying, but every word of Yao’s hurt. He didn’t seem to understand Xichen’s feelings at all. Xichen didn’t understand why they kept coming back to a similar argument, and why Yao’s parentage always seemed to come up alongside the question of love. He thought back over the details that Yao had brought up, which seemed random, and gradually a picture began to fall into place. 

Yao had said he loved him from the time they met…Xichen’s lack of hesitation in touching him. Calling himself ‘son of a whore,’ which should have been the forbidden phrase, too painful for him to say out loud. Someone better, he had said that at least three times that Xichen remembered. He had loved him all along. So then, everything he had done was out of love. Saving Xichen from himself. Xichen’s eyes felt hot and he could barely see as the final piece fell into place.

Yao had never once believed that Xichen was capable of loving him.

He placed Xichen on a pedestal, that was clear. Every flowery word he used to describe him had some angelic feel to it, and in every metaphor, he placed himself as some kind of lower life form. He lied and deflected over and over to try to save Xichen from himself. Because he seemed to feel that the crime of his association was the worst sin he could commit against someone he loved. How had Xichen failed to see it for so long?

“Not…guilt…” he said softly. He didn’t know if there was any hope, but he had to try. He had to at least convince Yao that he loved him. After that, if Yao still rejected him that was his choice, but no matter what Xichen couldn’t leave him feeling so worthless like this. 

“Oh? My apologies. Please correct my mistaken interpretation of your feelings, Zewu Jun.”

He was so far away. His heart was so closed off. Was there any way to reach him? “I…can’t eat…when I think about a world without you nearby,” he murmured.

Yao’s face twisted with pain. He certainly felt sympathy for Xichen, but as yet he seemed to doubt he was really the cause of that circumstance.

“I know I should go home. I have duties. I have my family, the most important people to me. They are hurt and need me. So tell me, A-Yao. If not love, why does the world seem empty without you beside me?”

Yao let out a shaking breath. He shook his head. “Delusion,” he said simply.

Xichen should have expected this. Despite the pain in his heart at his feelings being repeatedly cast aside, he considered and tried again. “Then…the joy I feel just at the thought of you. The hours I can spend each day dreaming of a quiet place only known to you and me. The way every sight before me only seems to take on meaning when you share it with me. If not love, what is that?”

By now, Yao seemed truly confused. His eyes searched the ground as if there were some answer there. He self-consciously wiped his face of tears again. “I don’t…” he began weakly.

Xichen closed his eyes with a soft breath of despair. “I know it’s too late. But if it will convince you that I love you, I will tell my uncle. How I feel about you, and how if it is not with you, there will be no hope of an heir for the Lan clan.”

Yao balked in shock. “What are you saying? Even…even if you could…I can’t…”

Xichen nodded, thinking he was talking about returning his feelings, and not realizing he was talking about giving Xichen an heir. “I know. I’ve failed you too much for you to have any faith in me still.” 

Once again, Xichen was blinded by tears just thinking about the implication of his own words. Even if he convinced Yao of his feelings, he would probably have to say goodbye to him today, as he had truly worn out his welcome. 

“I won’t ask you to be with me again. I know I don’t deserve you. But please don’t keep hurting yourself, thinking I don’t love you. You are the only precious thing to me. If it would convince you, I would cut my chest open to show you how little space in my heart is left, since you took up residence there.”

Large tears were falling down Yao’s cheeks, though he didn’t make a sound. He seemed in shock. He almost looked betrayed, and Xichen realized he might idolize him to such an extent that the thought of Xichen loving him might ruin his image. He sighed; that was probably for the best too. 

In the meantime, Yao didn’t seem able to take any of this in, and rather than respond, he slowly folded his arms over his chest and covered his mouth with a delicate hand. He seemed to be doing through some kind of existential crisis. Xichen wasn’t sure there was anything more he could say. But he thought at least he ought to leave him with some sense of peace and closure.

“Forgive me for having imposed on your kindness for so long,” he said softly. “It was only…an irrational feeling that I would lose myself if I could not see you. But I can’t rely on your face to see me through forever. I’ll go back to the Cloud Recesses this evening.” He clasped his hands before him and bowed. “Clan Leader Jin,” he said.

Yao still seemed at a loss, and before he turned to leave, he saw his eyes dart after him. But he remained frozen where he was and didn’t stop Xichen from returning to his room. The further away he walked from Jin Guangyao at that moment, the more despair crept over him. But it was true: he couldn’t rely on Yao forever. He had already stayed here too long. For better or worse, he had to try to get through the world alone from now on. 

Jin Guangyao, with a small retinue, saw Xichen as far as the gate that evening. He didn’t look directly at Xichen even once. The unnerving thought occurred to Xichen that it had been a mistake to tell him how he felt, that though his opinion of himself was woefully low, Yao had reached a kind of equilibrium with his feelings that Xichen had just needlessly upset. Whether or not that was true, it was too late now to change it.

Even though it was barely more than two weeks, reaching the Cloud Recesses again felt like coming home after a long journey. He was surprised to find both Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji waiting for him in his study when he arrived. 

Wangji got to his feet with only a small wobble of pain. “Xiong-zhang,” he said, bowing. 

“Wangji…are you all right to be up?”

Wangji simply nodded. He indicated the table, which was set with familiar vegetable dishes, tea and osmanthus cakes. “Please sit. Eat.”

Qiren also nodded toward the table. Xichen looked between the two of them in shock. Had they made peace while he was gone? There certainly seemed to be no tension between them. Moreover, he had never had a welcome like this before. Food was served at set times and in set fashions in the Cloud Recesses. Eating full meals in the study was usually frowned upon anyway, especially in front of his uncle. Xichen felt nearly moved to tears by their concern, almost enough to wipe away his guilt for leaving them for so long.

He nodded, bowing to his uncle. “Thank you, Uncle. Wangji.”

He had just sat down and was beginning to ask them about what had transpired in his absence when Wangji began to glower at him. 

“Eat,” said the younger man in a low growl.

Xichen chuckled at how frightening his little brother really was. He nodded. “All right. Thank you, Wangji.”

The glare soothed over his serious face, and Wangji nodded, looking pleased in his own way.

Two days later, as Xichen was just starting to slip back into his highly ordered and simple life, there was a terrible rainstorm just in time to usher in the coming spring. Disciples could be seen hurrying all over, trying to avoid getting drenched in their duties, some hurriedly gathering things from outside that shouldn’t be under heavy downpour. Though the younger Lan brother was still supposed to be confined to his room whenever possible to heal, at one point Xichen observed Wangji carrying a soaking wet and giggling A-Yuan under one arm, apparently having been caught playing in the rain. He covered his mouth with a hand and chuckled.

That evening, he was peacefully reading a cultivation book to the soothing noise of heavy rain on his roof when there was a knock on his door of a disciple.

“Zewu Jun!”

“Yes?”

“There is a visitor at the gate!”

Xichen quickly got up to answer his door. “In this storm?” he asked curiously. “Who?”

“Clan Leader Jin. He’s alone.”

“What…?” Xichen whispered. Despite the break in protocol and danger to his health by doing so in this weather, he heedlessly grasped Shuoyue and flew directly down to the main gate.

With only a somewhat beaten umbrella, which was doing nothing to protect most of the lower half of his body, Jin Guangyao stood waiting at the gate. Xichen landed in front of him and gazed an him open-mouthed for some time. 

“A-Yao…?”

Yao’s lips parted but he didn’t look up. He closed them again. 

“What are you…no. First, come inside.”

In a move that was rather out of character for him, he grasped Yao’s arm without even asking and carried him on Shuoyue straight back to his rooms. Once they landed there, he herded Yao inside, closed the door behind them and began seeking out fresh robes for them both. 

“Brother,” Yao said in a rather dazed manner. “I should explain…”

“Please wait just a minute, A-Yao. I can’t bear to look at you soaked through like that,” Xichen called, already in the adjoining room rummaging through his own clothes. 

He returned with some suitable ones and shocked Yao by starting to undress him without a word. “Wh-…Brother…what are you…” Yao stammered, flushing badly.

“I won’t touch you, and I’ve already seen you. Please indulge me just a little.”

Yao trembled and took in shaking breaths, but he obediently allowed Xichen to strip him completely naked and quickly cover him in several layers of warm clothes. With barely a pause and without the slightest shame, Xichen also stripped himself and donned fresh clothes as well. By the time he was done, both were dry and warm, but Yao’s cheeks particularly so.

“You aren’t going to ask why I’m here?” Yao muttered.

“Of course. But there’s no need to rush. Your journey here in this weather must have been terrible. Please sit.”

Yao let out a soft self-deprecating laugh. “I really can’t win against you.”

“What?”

He shook his head dismissively. “Lan Xichen,” he said, as he had done only a few times in their long acquaintance. “I came to ask you one more time if you really have no intention of finding yourself someone better, to give poor Lan Qiren some hope for the future of the Lan clan.”

Xichen sighed with a soft smile. “I cannot.”

“Fair enough,” Yao said, though seeming bitter. “I can only accept that answer. If you cannot, you cannot. But can you really have a reason more important than the future of your clan?”

Xichen thought it over carefully. “I don’t really compare important things in that way. All I can say is that there is no way I could marry anyone, no matter the reason.”

Yao’s jaw shifted slightly but he soon controlled his expression. “You don’t compare important things? So then if you had to choose a life to save, say mine or your brother’s, what would you do then?”

“I would save my brother,” Xichen said softly, but before Yao’s expression could cloud over into one of suffering, he added, “And die with you.”

Yao’s breathing heightened. He stared at the floor, seeming at a loss for some time. “What…a foolish answer…” he whispered. “You could have everything just by throwing me away. Who wouldn’t do that?”

“Anyone who loves you,” Xichen said regretfully, approaching him to stand close in an attempt to comfort him, but too frightened to reach out and touch him. “I only wish I could tell you I couldn’t make such a decision. But I can’t live without either of you, and living or dying, my soul would only be satisfied being in the same world as you.”

As a tear ran down Yao’s face, he said softly, “Whether it’s the same lotus petal, or the same dark recess of hell?”

Xichen nodded. “It wouldn’t seem so hellish if you were there.”

Yao sniffed, seeming to be somewhat satisfied by that answer. “All right. I just came to hear that from you. I’m going back to Carp Tower. Goodnight.”

“What?! A-Yao…in this weather, there’s no way you won’t get sick…I swear to you, I won’t touch you, can you please stay?”

Yao was obviously crying, but he wouldn’t look at him. “If I stay, I’ll start to believe things I shouldn’t. I’ve decided: I can’t be around you. You…say such fanciful things with such a serious face. It’s impossible not to be taken in by you.”

“I never said anything that wasn’t true.”

Yao gave a wet laugh. “Yes, you see? Like that. I’ll really start to believe you love me if I’m around this anymore.”

Though it broke his heart to think of being rejected again, Xichen finally reached out and grasped Yao’s arm. “I love you.”

Yao bit his lip as he half turned to face Xichen. “…you’re cruel, Lan Xichen. If…I believe you…and you lose your nerve again…”

“I can never do such a thing to you again,” Xichen said firmly, pulling him closer. “Stay.”

His heart felt ready to burst with happiness as suddenly Yao leaned his weight back against him and closed his eyes. Yao’s little hand grasped the side of his hip and his fingers curling in the fabric. “I love you,” Yao said almost inaudibly softly.

Xichen felt his eyes grow hot with tears. Yet he felt a wide smile creeping unstoppably over his face, as his chest filled with a powerful wave of light and joy. He gently encircled Jin Guangyao in his arms, still afraid to hold him tightly. 

“A-Yao…thank you…”

“What for?”

“Coming here. In the rain, so I had an excuse to stop you. I love you so much.”

Yao let out a bitter laugh and sniffed slightly, but he brought both hands up to squeeze Xichen’s arm as it lay around his chest. “You’re the only one in the world with such bizarre tastes.”

Xichen smiled down at him. “You love someone with such bizarre tastes. You must be the kindest soul in the world.”

“Ha! You say that now,” Yao commented absently, stroking Xichen’s arm. “I held a lot back when I thought we were only sleeping together, you know. I’m extremely jealous and petty. Possessive. And lascivious, I might add.”

Xichen’s heart pounded at the thought and he leaned down to place a deep kiss against the corner of Yao’s eye. He even lightly licked the remainder of tears from his cheek. “It’s no use listing all my favorite things about you. I can’t possibly love you any more.”

Yao finally seemed flustered and blushed deeply, but he sank even further against Xichen’s body. Without a word, he turned in his arms, wrapped his own around Xichen’s neck and drew himself up. Xichen grasped him tightly and kissed him desperately. He didn’t know what had come over him, but his whole body was alive with desire. He couldn’t get their clothes off fast enough, and in moments had a naked Yao together with him on his bed.

“In the morning,” he said, while pulling an oil lamp toward him. “Come tell my uncle that you’ll be my cultivation partner for the rest of our lives, and if he wants an heir it must come from you.”

Yao scoffed bitterly. “There you go again…I don’t know whether you really are that innocent or you somehow think I have ovaries, but-“

“People take in orphans to inherit clans all the time, A-Yao.”

“Oh.”

He kissed him on the cheek as he pulled him closer and his hands began to roam the most sensitive parts of his body.

“Brother…you’re not serious, right?”

“Of course I want to raise a child with you.”

“I meant about telling your uncle.”

Xichen was about to laugh when he suddenly pictured himself getting the skin stripped off his back. “…maybe we can just wait until after he’s dead.”

“That’s a better plan.”


	9. Dewdrops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen's first honeymoon night. <3

Xichen’s large and reassuring hands were holding him, as they had once done before. Yao worried his heart would burst. Pleasure ran in waves all down his skin, even while self-hatred threatened to undermine every pleasant thought. But the effect of being surrounded in Xichen’s warmth and scent was undeniable; he could only drown in love for him.

Yao wrapped his arms around Xichen’s neck as the Lan clan leaders fingers dipped in lamp oil and found his most sensitive areas. Yao kept his mouth purposefully closed as he trembled, afraid somehow that hearing his voice would break Xichen out of his delusion that he loved him. He hid his face in Xichen’s shoulder as hot tears streaked down his cheeks. Really, what was he doing here?

One after another, Xichen’s fingers slowly opened up his body. More so than before, Xichen’s movements were unhurried, peaceful. Even though he had kissed him so urgently moments ago, Yao could feel contentment and care in Xichen’s every touch. Almost as if he would be happy not having sex at all. Though Yao had not been lying when he said he was lascivious, at this moment he fully understood that deep sense of contentment. Slowly, he took in and let out several deep breaths to ease his urge to cry in happiness and fear of losing it. 

“A-Yao,” Xichen said abruptly, as if something had just occurred to him. He pulled back a little to gaze on Yao’s face with an expression so gentle just looking at it broke Yao’s heart and made him fall in love all over again. “I’m sorry…I was too excited just now to ask. But do you actually prefer being the one to put it in?”

Yao had no way of anticipating the outrageous sentence that had just come out of his innocent lover’s mouth, so it took him a moment to absorb it. When he did, his cheeks grew hot and he looked away with dreadful shame. 

“You…don’t need to worry about that kind of thing,” he whispered, avoiding his gaze.

He sensed disappointment in Xichen’s expression out of the corner of his eye. “…are you still afraid?” Xichen murmured, sounding hurt. “That if you make the wrong move somehow, I won’t love you anymore?”

With that, Yao’s efforts to stop himself crying were completely dashed. He closed his eyes with a shaking breath. “What does it matter?” he muttered.

“…A-Yao. Look at me.”

For a moment he hesitated. But the reassuring movements of Xichen’s hands had stopped, and gradually his fear of disobeying and disappointing him outweighed that of being hurt by loving Xichen too much. Reluctantly, he turned his gaze up to the angel holding him. His lips pated with shock and guilt the moment he did.

Despite having been so contented only moments before, Xichen’s face was streaked with pain. He looked betrayed. Yao was still so convinced Xichen couldn’t ever really love him, he didn’t understand what had provoked this reaction. But then Xichen tilted his head kindly.

“I love you so much…” Xichen said softly, and at the same time that he removed the two fingers from his left hand from being inside Yao, his right came up to stroke his hair almost reverently. “…that the thought of doing something against your wishes…paralyzes me. I know you can lie so well, I fear I will never know if I am hurting you. I promise you, there is nothing that would cause me to be disillusioned in you, and nothing I would not do to make you happy. Can you try to believe me?”

Yao trembled, wishing he were someone else. A large part of him did believe every horrific thing he had ever done had been justified, but he also knew full well that Xichen would not think so if he knew. Yet in these softly spoken words, Zewu Jun had done something quite remarkable. By framing his desire for Yao to be truthful as the key to his own happiness, he made it very difficult for Yao not to want to do anything to appease him. He let out a heavy breath as he let go of just a little of his anxiety.

“I…I’m all right…either way,” he whispered hesitantly.

A gentle smile bloomed over Xichen’s face. “Really?”

“Mm.”

“Then, which do you prefer this time?”

Yao really felt as if he would have a heart attack, the only thing preventing it being the rush of blood to the apex of his thighs at the thought of embracing Zewu Jun. His fingers contracted over Xichen’s shoulder in embarrassment. But the genuine happiness on Xichen’s face at that moment convinced him that he would not be hated if he were honest, at least about this one thing.

“If…you’re not opposed to it…” he murmured, feeling as if his face were on fire. 

Xichen chuckled lightly. He nodded. Without a word, he gathered up Yao into his arms, held him close and turned them both over so that now Yao lay on top of him. Yet once they were here, he did not let him go. Instead, his arms tightened around him, his nose nuzzling against Yao’s hair. Yao helplessly returned his embrace and they simply remained happy in each other’s arms for some time.

Xichen began bestowing kisses on Yao’s hairline and cheek, eventually teasing him into giving him his lips. Yao let out a moan as Xichen’s legs parted for him to rest in between them, his hips brushing against Yao’s as he deepened the kiss. Yao trembled as their lips parted, thinking there couldn’t possibly be anyone in the world as precious as Lan Xichen.

As they parted, Xichen reached for the lamp oil and directed Yao’s gaze toward it. He gave him another reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. Even if neither of us likes it, we already know there are other things we both like. Isn’t that so?”

Yao was actually able to chuckle a little at this. “Yes,” he said, and couldn’t help sharing another kiss.

Though he knew his hands were shaking slightly, he dipped his fingers cautiously into the lamp oil. Obviously he had never tried this with anyone before, but from the few times he had been in the opposite role with Xichen, he had a rough idea of what to do. As he knelt over his lover, he couldn’t help being entranced by the beauty of his naked body and softly smiling face. Even though he was still looking too thin, Zewu Jun was ethereally beautiful. 

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Yao caressed Xichen’s chest softly with one hand, while pressing one finger of the other against his entrance. Xichen closed his eyes, so trustingly. Yao felt his chest and eventually hips reacting to his touch. After massaging the entrance for some time, he slowly slid the first finger in. Xichen’s lips parted with a soft gasp. 

“Did it hurt?” Yao asked worriedly.

Xichen shook his head. He opened his eyes and gazed up at Yao with mild fascination. Even now, Yao was in awe of the gentleness in his expression, and the two were lost in staring at each other. By some mutual agreement, they began kissing again, and Yao slowly began moving his finger inside his lover. 

Yao felt the rumble of a moan from Xichen’s low voice against his lips. Pleasure ran all up his spine. He slipped his tongue inside Xichen’s mouth to feel it even deeper as the tempo of his finger inside him gradually increased. The additional stimulation made an even louder moan rise up from Xichen, and suddenly passion seemed about to overtake both of them. 

Yao hesitantly drew away to give himself a break from the overpowering sensation of Xichen’s moaning voice in his mouth. He rested his head against Xichen’s chest as the elegant Lan clan leader’s breathing in his ear increased along with the movements of Yao’s finger. Xichen’s broad and reassuring hands came to rest on his back, his fingernails now and then biting softly into his skin, and only increasing the pleasure surging through him. Yao added another finger.

Xichen’s head arched back as yet more gasps fell from his lips. 

“Are you still all right?” Yao asked him. 

Xichen’s eyelashes fluttered against his high cheekbones. “It’s an odd sensation…but when I think that it’s you doing it…my whole body feels warm. It’s very pleasant, A-Yao. Don’t stop.”

Yao couldn’t stop from softly biting down on Xichen’s shoulder as his cock felt painfully hard just with these words. Xichen shuddered enticingly at this too and wove his hands in Yao’s hair, stoking it affectionately as Yao continued teasing his entrance. But Yao himself was growing too impatient, and in particular his mouth was watering over Xichen’s erotic voice and subtle movements.

He shifted down his lover’s slender and fragile-looking body, letting his free hand run down it in silent worship of every ripple and curve. He shifted both arms under Xichen’s long, graceful legs. He placed a loving kiss to the inside of his thigh, tasting lightly there. Xichen’s fingers tightened into his hair. He heard his breathing heighten. 

“A-…A-Yao…”

Xichen’s voice came out in a strained whisper, even though Yao was still only hovering over his sensitive areas. He seemed about to ask him to stop, presumably lest he come too early, but Yao wanted to see him completely undone. Without letting up in the movements of his fingers, he used his tongue to pull the hottest part of his lover’s body into his mouth.

“Ah!” Xichen gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily. “Ah…ah…A-Yao…wait…”

Yao briefly removed Xichen’s cock from his mouth to say, “It’s all right. If you cum early we’ll just take a break. Just enjoy how you feel, and let me love you.”

Xichen’s brows knitted with worry nonetheless, but his breathing was still ragged and his eyes dark with desire. As Yao swallowed him again, he threw back his head with a deliciously low and husky moan. “A-Yao……ngh……A-Yao…!” 

At first he seemed about to protest again, but after just a few strokes of Yao’s mouth over his length, his breathing relaxed a little. At the same time, Yao felt his insides twitching around his finger. His hands slowly moved over Yao’s shoulders, now and then squeezing down on his skin. He cradled Yao’s cheek and stroked it with his thumb as he panted and admired Yao’s face while pleasuring him. Yao’s heart was again struck by how gentle he was. 

“A-Yao…” Xichen murmured softly. “Hurry…please…”

Yao’s eyes fluttered as his saliva dripped down Xichen’s length. He reluctantly drew it from his mouth, licking his lips. He craved another kiss and moved up Xichen’s body again, only realizing at the last moment that Xichen might not want to after what he had just been doing. But just as this thought occurred to him, Xichen’s arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him into a hungry kiss. His body flooded with happiness and pleasure, he slowly pressed his cock to Xichen’s twitching entrance.

Inside his mouth, Xichen gasped. Though he held tight to Yao, his back arched and he let out trembling breaths. Yao had to hold back a powerful urge to bite down possessively on Xichen’s neck, overpowered by how mature and sexy he was, while at the same time his insides gradually allowed him entrance. Yao also had to gasp as Xichen’s warmth enveloped him and he felt so good it was painful.

Just as exciting as his husky voice was the strength with which Xichen’s arms grasped onto him. When they were together before, it was obvious that Zewu Jun was very conscious of his own arm strength and often barely enclosed Yao in them, placing hardly any pressure on him at all. But now Yao almost lost his breath from how tightly Xichen clung to him. Though all but drowning in pleasure, he had a sudden worry that perhaps this reaction was out of pain.

“Brother…” he panted, as Xichen twitched beneath him, his fingers tightening and loosening over Yao’s back. “…how is it? Does it hurt too much after all?”

But Xichen barely seemed to hear him. His eyes fluttered and his breath rose in heavy pants, his hips twitching up against Yao’s again and again. As Yao was about to pose the question again, he began murmuring softly, “A-Yao…A-Yao…” His lips brushed over Yao’s cheek and hungrily pecked at the corner of his mouth, then practically swallowed his lips in a desperate kiss. 

“…nh…Brother…” Yao murmured against his mouth, shivering as Xichen’s tongue reached inside and teased at his own.

Somewhat losing his concentration, Xichen’s lips paused over his own as the moaning in his pants increased. “A-Yao…so hot…”

“Brother…!”

Yao couldn’t hold back anymore, and pulled out a little only to drive back inside him. Xichen moaned loudly and clung to him even tighter, whispering his name over and over. Yao’s head felt swimming with light as he pumped inside him. He hardly needed to ask anymore if it hurt as the pleasure was thick in Xichen’s voice. He finally gave in to his desire to bite into the skin of his neck as if to swallow that incredibly sexy voice.

With Xichen holding him so tightly, there was no way he could miss how hard Xichen was, pressing against his stomach. He thrust with all his strength inside him, wanting to give this perfect being as much pleasure as possible. Gradually the tone of Xichen’s voice grew higher and more desperate. Then finally, with a yelp, Yao felt a burst of heat against his chest. 

He paused to let Xichen come down gently from his orgasm, while in the mean time they both clung trembling to each other. Xichen’s eyes were closed so contentedly, he wanted to let him rest. But practically on their own, his hips bucked inside Xichen, seeking the deepest part of him. Xichen gasped and held to him again. 

“A-Yao…!” he cried.

With Xichen’s voice growing louder in his ear, Yao could barely hold on. But fortunately he lasted long enough to hear one last beautiful and erotic thing from his lover’s mouth.

“Ah…no…again…ahh!”

As his body jolted and his vision blurred with pleasure that threatened to knock him unconscious, he felt Xichen’s whole body grip onto him. Shaking breaths in his ear. Xichen’s cock repeatedly twitching against his stomach. And his entrance tightening around him as if wringing him dry. He couldn’t stop from cumming for almost half a minute. 

Eventually, the stimulation was too much and he had to pull out, even as he was still shaking from his orgasm. He collapsed on top of Xichen’s chest, sweating and panting. He was delighted and touched as Xichen’s limbs wrapped around him. His eyes closed and breathing grew steady, and it seemed he would fall asleep just like this.

When he had recovered some presence of mind, Yao turned to murmur softly in Xichen’s ear, “…so? How was it?”

Xichen suddenly twitched all over and gasped. His grasp on Yao’s back tightened again. “Wait…I’m still…sensitive somehow. Your voice on my neck is…”

Though just moments before he had felt thoroughly exhausted, Yao’s body was once again filled with desire. He heartlessly sucked down on Xichen’s neck.

“Ahh!” Xichen cried, hips bucking up against Yao’s. 

His voice continued to rise in wordless moans as Yao hungrily sucked and lightly bit him, then turned him over onto his stomach on the bed. While continuously bestowing hungry kisses on Xichen’s neck the more he realized he was sensitive there, he once again pressed his still-hard cock against Xichen’s entrance and slid inside him.

Xichen was practically hyperventilating. He was still unable to produce any words as Yao thrust inside him in this new and animalistic position. Even so, Yao could tell his voice was still suffused in pleasure. Even as he tried to arch his back up to meet Yao’s hips with his own, Yao grasped onto his waist with both hands and pounded him mercilessly.

“A-Yao…!” Xichen gasped. 

Yao honestly had very little memory after that, but he remembered at one point mounting Xichen and earning yet more desperate moans from him by switching roles. The thing that brought him the most joy that night was realizing that, like himself, Xichen seemed to love him so much that any kind of intimacy was pleasant for him. 

Waking up the next morning, to spring sunshine glistening outside on the rain-soaked Cloud Recesses, was one of the happiest moments of Yao’s life. When he gazed on Xichen’s sleeping face, his lips raw from kissing but overall his color fresh and healthy compared to the last time he had seen him, he was struck again by how hopelessly in love he was.

He placed a butterfly-soft kiss on his lover’s cheek. He whispered to his sleeping ear, “I don’t really need a secret orchard. Every moment with you is a gift. I love you, Lan Xichen.”


	10. Sword Technique

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the fall of Jin Guangyao, Lan Xichen struggles to resume normal life. Jiang Cheng has an unusual request for him, but Wei Wuxian throws a wrench into the works. 
> 
> CW: mention of blood, main character (canon) death.

“…you promised me,” Xichen whispered, in a voice he hoped only Jin Guangyao could hear. “An orchard…you would plant trees…”

A bitter smile obscured the love and pain streaked across Yao’s bloodstained face. He closed his eyes and a tear rolled down his cheek. “…and you would play music,” he repeated their promise, though his voice broke. 

“I warned you,” Xichen hissed, his hands shaking. He only had a vague sense that the pulse he could feel against Shuoyue’s blade, the warmth pumping out onto it, belonged to Jin Guangyao. He couldn’t bear to think about what that meant. “I warned you what I would do if you moved… Why didn’t you listen?!”

The bitterness overwhelmed Jin Guangyao’s expression and suddenly he bore his fangs at Lan Xichen for the first time in their acquaintance. “Yes you did. And did I move?!”

Cold struck Lan Xichen like an arrow to his heart. He hadn’t moved…? Shaking now from head to toe, and careful not to move his hand or Shuoyue, he gradually turned to face Nie Huaisang. The young Nie clan leader had his ever-pitiful appearance of a frightened mouse, but he did not answer Xichen’s accusing gaze at first. 

“I…I wasn’t…” he stammered. “I didn’t…I thought…” But for the first time, Xichen saw something beyond fecklessness in the young clan leader. For just an instant, as his gaze fell on Jin Guangyao behind him, Xichen saw malice in the eyes of Nie Huaisang.

At that moment, despite everything he had heard this evening, and all the heartbreak he had suffered, Xichen’s world ended. His hand on Shuoyue’s hilt went numb. He wasn’t even sure how he was still standing. There was no way Yao would survive. His blood, pooled at his feet and dripping from Xichen’s sword, continued to widen around him. Xichen had killed the man he loved. Not even on purpose. But rather because, once again, he had been too gullible.

Most of what happened after that was a blur. The only bright moment, although equally painful, was when Yao grasped his shoulder and pulled him close as the sky seemed to be falling all around them. 

With a sobbing smile and pain drowning out his formerly lovely features, Jin Guangyao whispered, “Come with me, Brother.”

Strange to say, Lan Xichen believed that that moment had saved him. His guilt had been threatening to drown him. When his love said he still wanted to be with him on the other side, even more so by showing his true face and his desire for revenge, Xichen felt rescued from the dark. He remembered everything he loved about him and knew Jin Guangyao was the only one who could possibly forgive him for what he had just done. He gratefully closed his eyes and took Yao’s small hand, ready to face eternity with him.

But to his surprise, Yao let out a small breath of shock. When he looked up, Yao was crying silently as he watched Xichen. All his bitterness was gone. Xichen had a sudden, horrible thought that he had once again had him all wrong. That even his murderous nature that he so often hid from Xichen was just another mask for him to hide his true self behind. Xichen took in a sharp breath, already sensing what he was going to do and desperate that he should not. 

Jin Guangyao smiled softly with a kind of peace he rarely showed. He used the last of his spiritual energy to blast Xichen backward across the entire temple hall, and into the arms of Jiang Wanyin, who didn’t hesitate to drag the shell-shocked Lan Xichen from the crumbling temple just as Nie Mingjue’s spirit engulfed it in resentful energy.

They all stood and watched helpless as the structure was surrounded and broken down by the battle of energies. But in the end, just as it had been in life, Nie Mingjue’s will was stronger than anyone’s. By the time the dust settled, it was clear, he had dragged Jin Guangyao to hell with him.

Lan Xichen stood frozen to the spot for some time. Part of him still wasn’t sure what had just happened, and told him in a loud voice that Yao wasn’t dead. So loud that he felt all the feeling drain from his hands, and swayed where he stood. 

He crumpled slowly to the steps outside the rubble remains of the temple. The small stones that dug into his hands, and somehow even more so those that just happened to be before his vision, seemed hateful to him. Yao was gone. He couldn’t explain it. Everything he saw seemed to mock him. It wasn’t fair that anything should remain in this world when Yao couldn’t. 

He had no memory of how he got back to Gusu after that. The first time he was conscious of his surroundings again was the next morning. He opened his eyes in his own bed, soft pre-dawn light creeping into his room as it always did at this time. He wasn’t sure how that could be true. Yao wasn’t here, but the sun rose anyway. His body told him it was time to get up. But instead he curled in on himself and didn’t move.

Several disciples came, one by one to check on him, but he didn’t respond at all. Finally, at nearly noon that day, he felt Wangji’s presence outside his door. Bichen’s hilt knocked lightly twice. 

“Xiong-zhang.”

Xichen didn’t even look in the door’s direction. He had spent the last few hours watching the way the light peeked in from his high windows to touch one of his walls of books, highlighting different volumes as the sun rose higher and the angle became steeper. Twice, a tiny white moth flew across his vision, its fragile body flashing rather prettily in the light.

Wangji waited quite a long time before he said anything else. When he did, it was surprisingly sweet, in Wangji’s own way. “I have finished my morning duties for the day. If you have no objection, I will sit here until it is time to perform the evening ones.”

True to his word, there was a small rustle of fabric as Lan Wangji settled himself like a guardian seated outside Xichen’s door. Xichen turned his head slightly to see the tall and noble silhouette his brother cast against the paper and wood. For a moment, he was touched and comforted by his presence. But he couldn’t stop the wave of jealousy and anger that rose up at the thought that Lan Wangji had loved someone just as flawed, if not more so, but now he was happy. Xichen turned back toward his inner wall.

Several hours later, as the morning sun had disappeared and now already an evening one was lighting the edge of Xichen’s face and pillow, Wangji stood up. 

“I’ll come again tomorrow. Xiong-zhang,” Wangji said. His shadow bowed, and then he was gone. 

Xichen closed his eyes. It was not nearly time to sleep yet, and he had not gotten up even to eat, but he couldn’t bear to be awake any longer and simply let sleep take him.

Two more days passed this way. Finally – not because he wanted to, but because the guilt was overpowering – he got up. This time, when he felt Wangji approach, he opened the door just as his younger brother was about to knock. Wangji barely reacted to seeing his face for the first time in three days. He lowered Bichen briefly. Then he clasped his hands together in a bow.

“Xiong-zhang.”

Lan Xichen did his best to force a small smile. “Wangji,” he said, realizing his own voice was hoarse from lack of use. “Have you finished your morning duties?”

Wangji nodded as if this were a perfectly normal question from his hermit brother.

“I imagine the Master wants to see me.”

Wangji looked away and didn’t answer, but he hardly needed to. Xichen’s unexplained isolation had likely been a heavy burden on their uncle’s mind. It was guilt over that, more than anything else, that forced Xichen from his bed. Even so, he had no idea how to ask forgiveness, or even understanding.

“Where can I find him?” he asked, again attempting to smile. His face felt numb; he wasn’t sure he managed it.

Wangji glanced up at him, but quickly away again, seeming hesitant. Eventually he supplied, “Tea garden.”

“His garden?” Xichen repeated, mildly surprised. He knew his uncle had one, he just assumed there would be a flurry of duties required for all the sects after the downfall of the Jin. But, he realized belatedly, there was at least one member of that tragic family still alive, so perhaps there was less work than he assumed. “All right. Thank you, Wangji.”

“I’ll come and see you again, after you speak with him,” Wangji promised, almost under his breath. 

Finally, Xichen felt a genuine smile creep across his face. He gratefully squeezed Wangji’s shoulder before he left, a gesture Wangji accepted with a small nod.

Their uncle’s tea garden was on a sunny hill a short walk from his quarters. Xichen had actually not been to this part of the Cloud Recesses for years, partly from rather traumatic memories of Lan Qiren trying to force Xichen and Wangji to have an interest in growing tea plants. The smell of the hot sun hitting the dirt and sun-loving tea leaves evoked many complex memories for him as he walked.

Lan Qiren was seated on a small stool, examining a leaf very closely and eventually taking a small cutting which he placed in his palm and rubbed it to release its scent. He gave a softly pleasant smile that he reserved for almost nothing in this world, before finally noticing Xichen.

He blinked up at him in surprise. “Xichen…” he murmured. He stood up too quickly and coughed, stumbling.

Xichen quickly reached out and caught him, helping him to sit back down and kneeling in front of him, heedless of getting dirt all over his pristine clothes. 

Once he was stable again, Xichen bowed from where he was and tried to smile to his uncle, but this time he was sure his face was too stiff and it would convince no one. “Master,” he said. “I’m sorry for my long absence.”

He wasn’t sure exactly what he was expecting from the strict and authoritarian Lan Qiren at this reunion after only a small separation, which he was sure had been mostly marred by Xichen’s mistake in trusting Jin Guangyao. Although Xichen still refused to see it that way. But whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t what he got.

Qiren watched him for some time, and eventually his lips parted. To Xichen’s shock, he reached up a hand and touched Xichen’s cheek with concern and affection. 

“Are you back now?” Qiren asked softly.

Xichen felt his eyes sting. He wasn’t sure why this small and subtle expression of kindness from his uncle meant so much to him at that moment, but it did. He forced his mouth into as much of a smile as he could manage. But honesty crept out when he opened his mouth. 

“I don’t know,” Xichen answered.

Qiren nodded. “It may take more time, but it will help to be among others. You’re already stronger than your father.” But he looked him up and down with concern. “You’re very thin.”

“I will try to eat something. Thank you, Master.”

Qiren slowly lowered his hands, looking somewhat remorseful. “Wangji told me…what you went through at Guanyin Temple,” he said. 

It was hard to say why, but Xichen got the feeling from the way he said this that Wangji had in fact told him everything. If so, he was amazed that Qiren was still speaking to him. Nevertheless, there was a certain heaviness in his words as he spoke again, and something about it made warmth and relief fill Xichen’s chest.

“You did well to come home.”

Xichen finally smiled with relief, though so much sadness still darkened his heart that he wasn’t sure if he was responding correctly. “Thank you, Master.”

…

Xichen did his best to resume his life from before, at least on a surface level. He didn’t think anything could change the worthlessness or sense of futility he felt, but out of consideration for his family and disciples, he pretended that it could. It was around this time that Gusu began to receive a certain regular visitor.

Jiang Wanyin, citing concern for his nephew – who was still known to sneak out on night hunts with Sizhui and a few others – began to make semi-frequent trips to the Cloud Recesses. Xichen had always found Wanyin refreshing, if a little crude. And knowing that he was one of the few who knew exactly what Xichen had been through made his presence deeply soothing, in a way. 

But on one occasion, Jiang Wanyin surprised him by requesting an unusual favor. 

“You want to learn Lan sword techniques?” Xichen repeated curiously.

Jiang Wanyin remained frowning at the floor of Xichen’s study, as he had been doing since he came in, when Xichen as usual invited him to sit for tea. He nodded. 

A deep pain slowly spread throughout Xichen’s chest as he thought about the last outsider he had taught Lan sword techniques to. Of course, Jiang Wanyin was incredibly straightforward – to the point of being simple – and it was highly unlikely he had any ulterior motives. Even so, the two greatest mistakes in Lan Xichen’s life had been as a result of his overly trusting nature. He couldn’t afford to trust his instincts.

“I see,” he said noncommittally, and after a few moments of thought, took a drink of tea.

Wanyin’s face showed nervousness, as he seemed to realize the request was a difficult one for Xichen at this moment. “I don’t have any ulterior motives,” he blurted out. 

Xichen blinked at him in surprise. But moments later, had to cover his face with his sleeve to hide his laughter. Truly, there were few people who were as straightforward as Jiang Wanyin. He reluctantly set down his tea cup with a small sigh.

“It isn’t that I suspect you,” he said. Unfortunately, he chided himself, this was true. He still had no instinct for suspecting people. It was only that he couldn’t afford to rely on his feelings anymore. “At this moment…Gusu Lan Sect is in a precarious position. I have failed it too many times. The truth is, I am considering passing leadership over to Wangji.”

Jiang Wanyin took in a quick breath of surprise. He seemed devastated by this idea but didn’t voice it, casting his gaze again to the floor.

“Which is a long way of saying, I do not trust my own judgment.”

To his surprise, rather than object or give an emotional outburst, Jiang Wanyin nodded stiffly. “I understand.”

Xichen attempted to smile disarmingly. “But why would you wish to know? Jiang Sect swordsmanship is both effective and beautiful. Also, I have been told, you are an excellent teacher, Clan Leader Jiang.”

Wanyin quickly lowered his face but did not completely conceal the red hot flush over his cheeks. He grumbled something about exaggeration which Xichen didn’t quite catch, which made the older man chuckle again. But he reluctantly raised his volume to admit the real reason. 

“It was probably just being better than me,” Jiang Wanyin said softly. “Hanguang Jun is better than most, I know. It’s silly to compete with him. But, that smiling bastard…whatever you taught him, someone with lower spiritual power than me was able to overpower my sword. I wondered if Lan techniques might be the reason.”

Lan Xichen’s body felt frozen. Either out of consideration for Xichen or genuine disdain, Jiang Wanyin had avoided actually mentioning his name. But that particular epithet, rather than avoid touching Xichen’s darker emotions, cut deep into a wellspring of rage and sadness over the way that the world had treated Jin Guangyao. He might be the only person who really understood why Jin Guangyao smiled. And how hopeless that attempt had been, just to be accepted. Lan Xichen lowered his gaze.

“A-Yao would never be defeated by sword technique. To think so only shows shallow judgement.”

A few seconds passed before Lan Xichen heard his own words objectively and was stricken by guilt. If he had been his normal self, he never would have voiced such a horrible thought. He quickly glanced up at Jiang Wanyin, who must be horrified by his rudeness. On the contrary, what he saw on the Jiang clan leader’s face appeared to be pain. 

“Of course. Judgement has never been my forte,” he grumbled bitterly. 

“Wanyin…I’m sorry,” Xichen said quickly. The blush from earlier suddenly returned to Jiang Wanyin’s cheeks at Xichen’s familiarity. It wasn’t his first time using the clan leader’s courtesy name, he was sure, but it might be the first time he used it alone. He was too flustered and guilty about his rudeness to worry about maintaining a barrier with him. “I…I’ve let so many horrible things happen…and yet I still can’t seem to forget him. It’s shameful. Forgive me.”

“You…” Jiang Wanyin began, hesitantly. He sighed in frustration. “You don’t need to apologize to me, Zewu Jun. Nobody saw him for what he really was.”

“No one…but Wei Wuxian,” Xichen replied softly.

“Hmph,” Jiang Wanyin scoffed, crossing his arms. “Well it took being violently murdered by him for him to figure it out. Don’t take anything that idiot does to heart, Zewu Jun. He just flails around and is sometimes accidentally a genius, it’s nothing to aspire to.”

Once again, Xichen allowed himself a hesitant smile. Jiang Wanyin was truly special, he thought. He might have been the first person to make Xichen smile genuinely since all of this had happened, whether he intended to or not. Even though part of him still stung at Jiang Wanyin’s low opinion of Jin Guangyao, which he knew he could not change, Xichen still felt grateful to have him here.

“I think I could teach you the basics without revealing anything damaging to the sect,” Xichen said, smiling softly. 

Jiang Wanyin slowly uncrossed his arms, watching Xichen with uncertainty. “…are you sure?”

Xichen’s smile broadened, and for a moment he felt like his old self. “The truth is, I would be very grateful for the company, and the occupation. We can start this afternoon, if you are ready.”

He could have imagined it, but he thought he saw another blush touch Jiang Wanyin’s cheeks. The Jiang clan leader shifted in his stance to face Xichen and clasped his hands in a bow. “Master,” he said.

Xichen chuckled. “That makes me feel quite old. We are equals, Wanyin. You may call me by my name.”

Jiang Wanyin’s blush got almost comically bright and he vigorously shook his head. But Xichen was also grateful that he didn’t seem to object to being called by his own name.

…

From then on, Jiang Wanyin began visiting the Cloud Recesses almost weekly. To Xichen’s surprise, he genuinely seemed to be a devoted student, and at the same time never pressed for more information than Xichen was willing to give. He seemed content to practice the simplest forms until he could perform them with perfect precision. Xichen also had an image of him as someone with a short temper, but in all the time they practiced together, he never showed a hint of frustration or impatience. On the contrary he seemed to observe Xichen with passive and almost devoted obedience, which reminded Xichen of a loyal dog – a thought he carefully kept to himself.

Jiang Wanyin also pointedly avoided chances of running into Wei Wuxian, who was now also a constant fixture of the Cloud Recesses. When they did meet, there was inevitably a fight, usually broken up by one or the other of the Lan siblings. But on one occasion, Xichen was shocked to find the two sitting more or less peacefully together with a mostly empty jug of Emperor’s Smile between them. 

Xichen raised his eyebrows at the scene. Wei Wuxian was laughing, leaning back on his elbows on the floor, looking quite contented. Jiang Wanyin had his head down as if he were ready to fall asleep at any moment. Wangji was also in the room, but watching Wei Wuxian patiently from a slight distance. 

“Xiong-zhang,” Wangji said tonelessly as Xichen entered.

“Ah!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, flopping his head back to observe Xichen upside-down. “It’s Big Brother Lan! Come join us!”

Jiang Wanyin took in a shocked breath and sat bolt upright. He didn’t even look at Lan Xichen, but rather frowned hard at the table in front of him as if it contained some puzzle he needed to solve. Xichen sighed. 

“Well…I suppose once in a while it’s all right to indulge.”

“That’s the spirit!” Wei Wuxian said gleefully, pouring a cup for Xichen and making space for him at the table.

Xichen took a seat between the two drinkers, causing Jiang Wanyin to hurriedly scoot further away, seemingly in embarrassment. He was a little hurt by Wanyin’s continued keeping him at arm’s length, but he smiled as he accepted the drink from Wei Wuxian. Although he rarely allowed himself to feel the effects of alcohol as it went against the Lan precepts, he did enjoy the taste. He took a stiff drink and set his cup before Wei Wuxian to refill it.

“I forgot Zewu Jun is such a good drinker! You could learn from him, Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian told his former brother.

Jiang Wanyin glared at him, but didn’t seem to have any retort. 

“So…is this a frequent gathering, or…?” Xichen hedged, hoping to find out whether Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian had finally buried the hatchet. 

Lan Wangji was actually the first one to shake his head. 

“Nah, I only caught Jiang Cheng unawares this time,” Wei Wuxian said, flicking a mischievous finger across his nose. “I saw his sorry old spaniel face and sensed he needed to drown his sorrows.”

“His sorrows…?” Xichen repeated with concern.

Jiang Wanyin slammed a hand on the table, shocking everyone else in the room. “Wei Wuxian. You shut your mouth.”

Xichen blinked at him in surprise. “Wanyin…is there something troubling you? I may not be the most reliable confidant…but if I’ve been obtuse as usual and failed to notice, I am sorry.”

Suddenly, Wei Wuxian burst into laughter. Across from him, Jiang Wanyin’s anger steadily grew. “You have no idea, Zewu Jun.”

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Wanyin snapped, suddenly rising to his knees.

Heedless of Jiang Wanyin’s anger, Wei Wuxian leaned close to Xichen and continued, “Not just having to take back his own hatred of cut-sleeves-“

“I’ll strangle you if you say another word!” Jiang Wanyin roared.

“-but also to be in love with someone who doesn’t even know he exists!” Wei Wuxian whispered with a conspiratorial grin, but was clearly audible to everyone in the room. 

Xichen had a sinking feeling, mostly out of sympathy for Jiang Wanyin, whose face quickly drained of color as they watched. Wanyin slowly sat back on his ankles, looking like the end of the world. In spite of himself, Xichen couldn’t stop the question from rising to his lips.

“In love with…?”

Wei Wuxian grinned delightedly. He pointed a cute finger directly at Lan Xichen’s nose. “With his teacher,” Wei Wuxian giggled.

Xichen couldn’t help from looking over at Jiang Wanyin to confirm whether this was true. His heart almost broke when he saw the despair, pain and shock ripple across Jiang Wanyin’s face, although he refused to look at anyone. His eyes grew red. Without a word, he swept from the room.

“Wanyin…” Xichen murmured helplessly.


	11. Honeysuckle Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jiang Cheng recovers from Lan Xichen's rejection and learns someone else may have feelings for him.

Jiang Cheng wanted to return to Yunmeng the same night, but he was drunk enough that he feared he would fall in a ditch and die on the way. The thing about that idea that really irked him was knowing Wei Wuxian would laugh at him for dying so comically. So he swallowed his pride and curled up in his guest room in the Cloud Recesses, not getting much sleep.

When he groggily got up the next day, he did his best to reach the exit of the Cloud Recesses unnoticed. He couldn’t bear the shame of seeing Zewu Jun, and would likely attempt to murder Wei Wuxian if he saw his face. He was so hungover, however, that at one point as he squinted through the pain of a headache, he quite literally collided with the very problem he was trying to avoid.

“Wanyin…”

His heart flew into his throat at the gentle, husky voice which said his name in a way that no one else did. He couldn’t help looking up to meet the gaze of the man who had been tying his heart in knots lately. Unfortunately, he was so beautiful it only increased Jiang Cheng’s sense of inferiority. He was too flustered to even make an excuse to leave, much less an apology or explanation for the other night, so he stood in awkward silence in front of him. 

“…I’m glad you’re still here. Will you stay and talk with me a little?” Zewu Jun asked him kindly. 

Jiang Cheng felt his stomach lurch. He couldn’t possibly spend any time with this man after his secret was out. He could hardly stand to look himself in the mirror. 

Jiang Cheng quickly shook his head. “I’m needed in Yunmeng,” he said, and tried to turn away.

“Wanyin,” Zewu Jun said, grasping his arm with a light touch. But just that was enough to make Jiang Cheng feel hollow and worthless. He was fixed to the spot, staring at the ground as if it had done him offense. “About last night-“

“Nothing happened last night!” Jiang Cheng said, so loudly it worsened his own headache. While holding his head he continued, “Whatever you think you heard, just forget it!”

“…I can’t do that.”

Jiang Cheng’s heart sank. He wasn’t the most intuitive person, but he could hear the apology in Lan Xichen’s voice already. He knew there was no good outcome awaiting him. Even so, by now he also knew he was more or less powerless against this man’s smallest request. There was no avoiding this now anyway. He let some of the tension ease from his body and prepared to have his heart broken.

“Please come and sit for a moment,” Lan Xichen said gently. “I’ll make some tea for your hangover.”

Jiang Cheng’s chest ached at how kind and noble this person was, as if he needed reminding. It was cruel that he was still so kind even when about to reject someone. Unable to think of a way to avoid what was coming, he reluctantly nodded. 

In Xichen’s study, the beautiful Lan lord poured him a small cup of honeysuckle and yanhusuo tea. He wasn’t particularly surprised when the first few sips already seemed to draw the pain out of his head and neck. Of course, it wouldn’t do anything for his heart. 

“Wanyin,” Lan Xichen said softly, after Jiang Cheng had settled. “About last night…”

“About last night,” Jiang Cheng mockingly interrupted him. “…you don’t need to say it.”

Zewu Jun blinked at him in surprise. Jiang Cheng finished his tea, symbolically swallowing his pride as well, and set the cup back on the table. He stared at his own hand for some time while gathering his courage.

“In the first place, your heart is taken. I know. Even if you wanted to, you’re not the type to just jump one ship for another as the tides change,” Jiang Cheng said, elucidating the problem with unusual calm. Zewu Jun did not argue with him, and eventually closed his mouth with a small sigh. Jiang Cheng’s jaw tightened, taking this as confirmation. “And in the second place…if you were going to fall for anyone new, it wouldn’t be me.”

Lan Xichen looked up in surprise at that, but Jiang Cheng only took this reaction for politeness. “That’s not really fair to yourself, Wanyin,” he said hesitantly, which did nothing to assuage Jiang Cheng’s insecurity.

Even though he was expecting it, realizing he was not even on Zewu Jun’s radar hurt a lot more than he thought it would. In spite of himself, he felt his eyes start to sting and he desperately wanted to get out of here. 

“Dancing around the issue doesn’t do me any good, Zewu Jun,” he growled bitterly. “You’d save me false hope if you just said it straight out.”

Though he wasn’t able to look him in the eye, he could tell Lan Xichen lowered his gaze and seemed somewhat pained. But eventually, he nodded. “I’m sorry.”

Jiang Cheng felt as if a glass had shattered inside his chest. He had thought the same thing when Wen Qing returned his comb, the only other person in his whole life that he had ever wanted. He was not handsome like Jin Zixuan, nor charismatic like Wei Wuxian, not even kind like Jiang Yanli. He had his mother’s temper and no good qualities to balance it. It was as he’d thought. No one could love him.

He stood up abruptly. “It never happened,” he whispered. “Now I know, so save your guilt Zewu Jun. You never heard anything.”

He turned and left, but caught a small sound just before he opened the door.

“I’m sorry, Wanyin, but…it made me very happy.”

Jiang Cheng gritted his teeth, unable to stop one tear from rolling down his cheek. Without another word, he pushed the door open and slammed it behind him as he left, leaving the Cloud Recesses for, he thought, what might be the last time. 

…

Though he wished to avoid Lan Xichen as much as possible after that, there was a cultivation conference not even half a month later. It had been planned since before Jin Guangyao’s downfall, and not going would mean Yunmeng Jiang Clan would not be represented. It seemed he would have no choice but to come face to face with Lan Xichen. 

He was shocked when in place of Lan Qiren the two Lan brothers arrived with Wei Wuxian instead. Wei Wuxian started to wave merrily at Jiang Cheng when he saw him, and then froze. Either because he saw the rage radiating from Jiang Cheng’s entire body, or because he suddenly remembered revealing his secret. Instead he quickly pretending to be looking at something else, tapped his flute against his mouth innocently and followed Lan Wangji to their seats.

There were no particularly eventful revelations at the conference. Nie Huaisang was pathetic as ever in his new role as Chief Cultivator, repeatedly failing to resolve disputes, some of which nearly came to blows. Lan Xichen came to his aide at least twice that Jiang Cheng was aware of, and during a break he saw Huaisang cling to Xichen’s robes like a small baby animal clinging to its parent. Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes at the time, but couldn’t help the brief flash of jealousy at someone who could so shamelessly and naturally touch Zewu Jun.

At one point, though, he saw Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen in deep conversation, separated from other cultivators. It was none of his business so he was about to turn away from them. Just then, something about the way Huaisang gently touched Xichen’s arm made him feel physically ill. His lips parted as he watched Huaisang’s wide and adorable eyes look up at Lan Xichen with an unmistakable expression of devotion. Was he imagining things?

Even though he wanted to turn away, he found himself fixed on the spot. As he watched, Xichen smiled warmly down at Huaisang. He nodded, laying a reassuring hand on Huaisang’s shoulder, which caused a wide smile of gratitude to break out over Huaisang’s face. Then he wrapped his small arms around Xichen’s large body like a child hugging a tree, provoking a small chuckle from the taller man. 

At this point, he was in danger of being spotted. Feeling numb, Jiang Cheng slowly moved one foot in front of the other until there was a pillar between them. He put his back to it and sank his weight against it. 

He had never thought much of Nie Huaisang. He liked Wei Wuxian, so apart from anything else Jiang Cheng assumed he must be an idiot. Even after they found out what he had done in order to get revenge on Jin Guangyao, no one in the cultivation world seemed to change their opinion of him. He was still mostly helpless, still largely only concerned with his appearance and acquiring fine art, and still showed no signs of inheriting the wrath that had hastened his brother’s death. Of all people, Lan Xichen should have been the one to resent him. But clearly, he didn’t. 

And in fact, the why didn’t really matter. Jiang Cheng couldn’t deny that Nie Huaisang was cute, just as Jin Guangyao had been. He was also gentle, surprisingly sophisticated, rather funny, and humble. And clearly in need of protection. All things Jiang Cheng wasn’t. So if that was what Lan Xichen liked, no wonder he didn’t even consider someone like Jiang Cheng.

To his surprise, as the conference finished that day, Lan Xichen caught up to him. The dazzlingly beautiful Lan clan leader bowed with a smile. “Clan Leader Jiang.”

Jiang Cheng had reached his limit of politeness for the day and merely nodded in return. “Zewu Jun.” 

But even without knowing why Zewu Jun called out to him, he was not in a good state of mind for pleasant conversation with someone who so recently rejected him and might be involved with someone else. He started to turn away.

“Ah!” Xichen made a small noise of disappointment, stopping him. “I, uh…wondered if you’d want to have dinner together.”

“I really don’t.”

Xichen’s look of shock and disappointment deeply injured Jiang Cheng, even though he knew it was his own rudeness that had caused it. “Oh…Of course. Forgive my presumption.”

Jiang Cheng clenched his teeth, the honorable part of him doing fierce battle with the wounded part that just wanted to run away. Eventually, partly with the help of his continued affection for this perfect person in spite of his own pain, the better part won. 

“I’m joking. Why would I mind?” he mumbled, though the last part was sarcastic.

As he suspected however, Xichen was immune to sarcasm and a sunny smile of relief broke out over his face. “Oh good. Then please join me and Huaisang in my rooms this evening. I’m looking forward to it.”

He bowed once more politely and left, while Jiang Cheng’s mouth hung open in his wake, still in shock at the casually uttered new piece of information which changed everything. Quite honestly, he would never have agreed to eat with him if he knew it was with Huaisang. He knew Xichen was a lot less innocent than he ever let on, but there wasn’t a chance he was doing this on purpose, was there? He wasn’t trying to rub it in, was he? Either way, he couldn’t well get out of it now. He groaned to himself, rubbing the crease between his brows and hoping tomorrow would come sooner.

As he sat down with the two of them that evening, he really questioned every life decision that had led him to having dinner together with the man who rejected him and possibly his current lover. But he didn’t have long to ponder his unique misery before he was reminded what kind of person Nie Huaisang was.

“Jiang-xiong…!” he whined, reaching across the table to tug on Jiang Cheng’s sleeve. 

“Nh?” he grunted irritably, not even looking at him.

“It’s too hard! You have to help me too! Didn’t you help Jin Ling before?! Why can’t you be kind to me too?!” Huaisang moaned, already half in tears.

Jiang Cheng opened his mouth wide to sigh loudly in order to fully convey how little he cared about this topic.

Lan Xichen chuckled with a look of pity. “If it’s no inconvenience for you, Clan Leader Jiang, it seems Clan Leader Nie could use quite a bit of help. The burden of being Chief Cultivator is a not a light one.”

“You want some advice, Huaisang? Be someone else,” Jiang Cheng grumbled heartlessly. “You’re not suited to conflict resolution.”

Huaisang’s cute, big eyes quickly filled with tears. “Uuuu, Er-ge…!” he cried, seeming to be genuinely crying now and not just whining. “I told you, he hates me! What should I do? Uuuuu…!”

Xichen closed his eyes with a sigh. “That may have been overly unkind, Wanyin.”

Jiang Cheng’s anger only rose at hearing criticism from the one he loved. Suddenly he thought he understood the pain his mother had felt from being married to his father very well. He lowered the hand he had been using to prop up his chin and gripped the wood of the table to try to modulate his anger and pain.

“I am unkind,” he said softly. “Despite my best efforts, the only reward for anyone who cares about me is harshness and undeserved cruelty. Do you think this is news to me? Do you think I enjoy being this way? Or are you more concerned with flaunting your own happiness in front of me than with whatever my concerns may be? Either way, I’ve had enough.”

His dinner barely touched, Jiang Cheng stood up and headed for the door without another word. He heard Huaisang crying at Xichen, saying he had made things worse and asking what to do. 

And he just caught Xichen’s voice say, “Hold on, Huaisang. I’ll return in a moment.”

Jiang Cheng closed the door behind him, heedless of the sound of it opening again and footsteps following him. 

“Wanyin.”

He was so ashamed, he couldn’t stop and face him. He was half afraid that if he saw his face now he would cry, and he couldn’t bear embarrassing himself in front of Lan Xichen any further. 

“Please, Wanyin. I’m sorry.”

His footsteps slowed. Finally, he stopped walking in the middle of the moonlit courtyard of Carp Tower between the Lan guest rooms and the Jiang ones. Lan Xichen approached quietly behind him, and he could see his shadow in his peripheral vision. Even this stood high and noble above Jiang Cheng’s smaller and shabbier one. There had been few times in life that he felt lower than he did at this moment.

“I didn’t mean to criticize you. This…it isn’t what you think.”

“Zewu Jun…just leave it,” Jiang Cheng muttered. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I know,” he barked, somewhat louder than he should. “It’s me. I’m impossible to deal with. Don’t take it to heart.”

“No…you’re not, but what I mean is…Huaisang asked for my help tonight. He was having difficulty approaching you on his own. He thinks you resent him.”

Amid a stab of guilt that he might have misunderstood, Jiang Cheng considered why Huaisang would be having such difficulty. He had never been shy about expressing his emotions. Nor prideful about begging friends to help him, clearly. He couldn’t figure it out what would be hard for him.

He half turned in order to gauge Lan Xichen’s expression. “What do you mean ‘difficulty’?”

Lan Xichen tilted his head with reluctance. “I’m…not sure it should come from me. I think you should ask him directly.”

Jiang Cheng closed his eyes with a sigh. “I’m in no mood for these games, Zewu Jun. I know you don’t have a manipulative bone in your body, I know you don’t mean it, but I’m getting tired of this. You must be well used to people being in love with you by now. How is it you have so much trouble leaving well enough alone?”

Only a breath after the words left his mouth, Jiang Cheng wished he could go back in time. Lan Xichen’s face was streaked with shock and hurt, and Jiang Cheng didn’t even blame him. Why was it always like this?! Why couldn’t he get through a single conversation without hurting someone?!

“I’m…not…” Lan Xichen said softly. He seemed to shrink before Jiang Cheng’s gaze, and he realized that for the Lan, even indirect implications of promiscuity would be incredibly shaming. Jiang Cheng was so guilty he wanted to stab his own tongue. When he had gathered himself, Xichen continued hesitantly, “Huaisang…he holds special feelings for you. Feelings that make it hard to face you directly. I only wanted to be of help to you both.”

Suddenly, Jiang Cheng’s guilt vanished in the wake of rising anger in his gut. He watched Lan Xichen in disbelief. “Are you trying to put us together…?” he whispered.

Xichen attempted to smile disarmingly but couldn’t quite manage it. “Well…it’s none of my business. I only want you both to be happy.”

“What…” Jiang Cheng muttered in an undertone. “…is this guilt? You’re so kind you can’t stand to hurt someone, even just by being honest?” he whispered, and though aware he was going too far, he was too hurt by now to regulate his own words. “Or…is it that you find it so abhorrent to be loved by someone so crude and harsh, you can’t stand the thought of him continuing to love you, even in silence? You just had to tie the problem up neatly, pushing it on someone else?”

Xichen blinked rapidly, at a loss for how to respond, and to Jiang Cheng’s eternal regret, he saw a silvery streak run down Lan Xichen’s porcelain, moonlit cheek. “I…I didn’t…” he whispered, but then his words seemed to run out. 

Jiang Cheng turned away with a scoff. “How many times have I told you now? Forget it. In fact, I’ll do you one better. I couldn’t stay in love with someone so clueless. So it’s really as if it never happened.”

Even as he felt he left his heart torn out where he was standing with his back to Lan Xichen, in the cold, moonlit courtyard, Jiang Cheng strode off alone. Not back to his room, as he feared he would break something, but for a while he just walked until his adrenaline started to fade, and he could hear things beside his own heartbeat throbbing in his ears. 

He finally felt all the strength drain from his body as he found himself in front of the lotus pond that Jin Zixuan had made for Jiang Yanli. He helplessly sank down on top of the bridge, leaning both hands against it as he trembled. Finally, he couldn’t hold it back anymore and sobbed. He hated himself bitterly at that moment. To be sure, he was still hurt and angry at Lan Xichen’s insensitivity. But he knew nothing he had said or done deserved what Jiang Cheng had just said to him. He felt like a monster. 

After he wasn’t sure how long, but long enough for him to lose most of the feeling in his nose and ears, he finally felt he had himself under control again. He stood, feeling another headache forming from crying in the cold, and headed for his room. He couldn’t quite believe the sight that was waiting for him there.

Nie Huaisang, curled up in a little bundle of gray with his head resting on his knees, was sitting on the ground outside Jiang Cheng’s door. His head whirled up as he heard Jiang Cheng coming. He definitely seemed to have been crying too. 

“Jiang-xiong!” he cried, rising to his feet and taking a few steps toward him, then hesitating. “I’m sorry…please don’t blame Er-ge…I just wanted to talk to you.”

Jiang Cheng concealed his mild surprise at learning what Xichen had said was true. It didn’t really change what he had tried to do, forcing Jiang Cheng on someone else just to get rid of him. “I understand,” he said nonetheless, still feeling guilty about how he had treated Huaisang.

“…how much did Er-ge tell you?”

“Enough,” Jiang Cheng muttered. He was certain was true, whatever the case. 

“And…?”

He flicked a glance at the apprehensive Huaisang, not quite sure what he was getting at. “And what?”

Huaisang looked crestfallen. “Well…that is…” He nervously ran his fingers over his fan as if searching for security, and Jiang Cheng had to admit his every little affectation was charming. “I know you aren’t in love with me. But…I also know it must hurt. Er-ge doesn’t have eyes for anyone but…” For an instant, a hint of malice flashed across Huaisang’s cute face. He shook his head to rid himself of it. “…what I mean is, I don’t need you to love me. I just want to comfort you. So…what do you think about that…Jiang Wanyin?”

Even before he heard all of this, Jiang Cheng had already been emotionally drained. He couldn’t quite figure out how he should respond. So in the end he just said honestly, “I don’t know.”

Huaisang pursed his lips anxiously, and eventually seemed to gather up his courage. He took a few more steps toward Jiang Cheng until he was looking up at him from where Jiang Cheng’s face was lowered in despair. Huaisang looked up at him with pity. Carefully, he raised both his small hands and encircled them around Jiang Cheng’s neck. He drew himself up until he was nestled in the hollow of Jiang Cheng’s body. 

“…how about this?” Huaisang asked.

But besides it being warmer, Jiang Cheng didn’t have any opinion. “…I don’t know,” he murmured.

Huaisang drew back a little bit. Slowly, his eyes darting between Jiang Cheng’s for reassurance, he drew in close and placed one feather-light kiss on Jiang Cheng’s lips. And then another. Finally one more. Then he looked up at him with mild concern. 

“…and this?”

Jiang Cheng did indeed feel comforted at just this small intimacy. But he couldn’t help imagining someone much taller drawing him close, and giving him an even longer but more gentle kiss. His eyes fluttered as he tried not to cry again.

“I don’t know.”

“Then…will you let me in?”


	12. Sandalwood and Moss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jiang Cheng eventually accepts Nie Huaisang's offer of comfort, only to discover he has made a grave mistake.

Lan Xichen clasped his hands and rested his fingers against his brow, still the next day unable to let go of the swirling array of emotions evoked in him last night. He could hardly believe he had cried in front of Jiang Cheng. He hadn’t even cried at A-Yao’s passing. Though partly he knew, that was because he still hadn’t accepted it. 

During a break in the second day of the conference, when most of the others had gotten up to stretch their legs, Lan Xichen stayed behind in his seat, trying to sort through his emotions. He should not have been surprised when at least one person noticed.

“Xiong-zhang…”

Xichen glanced up to see Wangji standing over him with what, for him, was a slight frown of concern. He didn’t really need to ask the question out loud. Xichen sighed. 

“It’s nothing, Wangji,” he said with a smile. “Please go and entertain Master Wei.”

But it was then that a small, black-clothed arm flopped around Wangji’s shoulder and a messy mop of hair popped up from the other side. Large, black eyes appeared after it. “Mm? What’s got you down, Big Brother Lan?”

Xichen rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, but honestly felt grateful for the company, so he admitted, “Well…since you both know anyway…I suppose I could use some advice.”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes sparkled with ill-restrained joy. He climbed to a slightly higher perch on Wangji’s back as he said with conspiratorial glee, “Zewu Jun has troubles we can help with? Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! Sit down!”

“Mm,” his brother said with a very slight smile at his lover. 

They both sat nearby Xichen, still lightly touching as if unaware of it themselves. Xichen’s stomach twisted as he watched them, unable to avoid thinking about the last time he had touched A-Yao. 

“So? What happened, Zewu Jun?”

Xichen took a deep breath, feeling as if it didn’t his lungs properly. While trying to avoid saying anything that might upset Jiang Wanyin, and leaving out the name of the other party who had been with them that night, Xichen briefly explained what had happened. Though Wangji’s expression didn’t change in the slightest, Wei Wuxian seemed to grow steadily more horrified. 

“And…was that the last thing he said?” Wei Wuxian asked, pity twisting his brows.

Xichen’s lips parted but no sound emerged. He paused, looking down at his hands on the small table in front of him. He squeezed them to try to restore some equilibrium inside his heart. 

“…no,” he murmured. He swallowed, feeling actually a little ill. He didn’t know why, but his throat closed when he tried to finish the story. “He said…he couldn’t love someone so clueless.”

“Mmm…mmm,” Wei Wuxian sighed reluctantly, scratching his head. “Sounds about right.”

When he saw Xichen flinch in horror at his seeming to agree with Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian quickly shook his head.

“No, what I mean is, that sounds like Jiang Cheng,” he explained. He sighed loudly. “He just can’t be honest, if it’s a matter of pride. He has to say everything is sour grapes if things don’t go his way. That’s how he is.”

Xichen doubted if that were entirely true. He didn’t believe Jiang Cheng inclined or even fundamentally capable of lying. He also believed there was no way to lie while wearing the expression Jiang Wanyin had had last night. But he had to acknowledge that Wei Wuxian was the person who knew him best. 

“Why would his pride be injured?” Wangji asked softly, of Wei Wuxian. 

“You really are hopeless about some things, Lan Zhan,” he sighed with exasperation. “What would you do, if I rejected you and then tried to set you up with someone else?”

Xichen’s lips parted in shock at hearing the situation summarized like that. Perhaps he had been overly considerate of both parties and ended up missing the obvious. He covered his mouth with his hand as he realized it was likely more than Jiang Cheng’s pride that he had injured. 

Meanwhile, Lan Wangji was approaching a state of quite dangerous anger. “…I might have killed you,” he said in answer to Wei Wuxian’s question.

“Keh! It’s scary because you mean it,” Wei Wuxian muttered dismissively, while actually looking slightly scared. “Anyway, now you know how Jiang Cheng feels. And don’t underestimate him. He’s a lot more prideful, even than you.”

“I’m not prideful at all,” Wangji objected with a slight twitch of his brow.

Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian both conveniently found somewhere else to look while that statement hung awkwardly in the air. “…Master Wei,” Xichen said, changing the subject. “I think I realize what I have done wrong. But you know Clan Leader Jiang best: can you tell me how to fix it?”

“Hm? Oh.” Suddenly Wei Wuxian seemed much less enthusiastic. He leaned his head on his hand and shifted his jaw, seeming in discomfort. But at length he merely flipped his other hand in a gesture to let it go. “Ahh, don’t worry about him, Zewu Jun. I hate to agree with Jiang Cheng, but he just needs to get over it on his own.”

Xichen didn’t understand at first why hearing this hurt almost as much as hearing Jiang Cheng say he didn’t love him anymore. He chided himself as soon as he realized it; he had no right to feel this way. 

“But…I’ve erred. I should at least apologize properly-“

Wei Wuxian raised an eyebrow so dubiously that he stopped Xichen’s speech. “Really?” he asked almost mockingly. “Hm. Hm. Zewu Jun is very honorable. Hm. Hm. A model of behavior.”

Both Lan brothers registered distaste for Wei Wuxian’s tone. “Wei Ying,” Wangji warned. “What do you mean by that?”

Wei Wuxian shrugged without lifting his head from his chin. “Nothing. It’s a compliment. Of course, that’s assuming you love him in return, and simply haven’t let go of your feelings for Jin Guangyao yet.”

Xichen took in a sharp breath, while Wangji’s anger surfaced noticeably. “Wei Ying!”

“What? I assume that’s true. Otherwise you’re just ignoring his feelings completely.” Wei Wuxian turned his dubious gaze on Xichen again and gave him a hard look once there. “Lan Xichen. What does Jiang Cheng keep telling you? ‘Forget it.’ That’s not humility. Trust me, he doesn’t know what humility is. It’s a plea. He needs to sort it out on his own, without you reminding him every two seconds what a perfect, beautiful man you are.” 

Wangji, whose anger had cooled after hearing Wei Wuxian’s explanation, again got his hackles up at the conclusion. “ ‘Beautiful’?” he repeated, his intense gaze making Wei Wuxian start to break out in a nervous sweat.

“Anyway, you listen here Big Brother Lan. I like you a lot – distant second to your little brother obviously,” he added quickly with a nervous glance at Wangji, who was still glaring suspiciously at him. “So I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt, but if you care about Jiang Cheng, and you don’t want to make it worse, then you can’t give him false hope. It’s not too late. Trust me, he’s actually quite forgiving, despite appearances. He can still be your friend again. Just give him time.”

Xichen’s gaze slowly lowered as he tried to take in this advice. He wanted to argue that none of this changed the wrong he had done, and his need to make it right. He wanted to say that he felt Jiang Wanyin deserved better. But he had the feeling that none of these arguments would pass Wei Wuxian’s judgement, and somehow he couldn’t bear to hear them refuted.

“Wei Ying,” Wangji said firmly. “We’re going to bed.”

“What?! I mean later, sure, but…”

“Now.”

With that, Lan Wangji gathered Wei Wuxian under one arm and carried him easily like a sack of potatoes. “Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian rebelled, striking his legs rather cutely with balled fists. “You brute! Don’t I get an opinion?!”

“You need reminding. Who you’re married to.”

“I…” Wei Wuxian blushed badly and hid his face in his hands. “…really love you.”

“Mm.”

Xichen allowed himself a small chuckle at their shameless flirting, much though he found it embarrassing. He had never dared to touch A-Yao openly in public. Both their personalities and sensibilities forbid it in general, but there were in fact several occasions that Jin Guangyao had found a way to hold his hand discreetly, moments he remembered with deep happiness. They had had so many happy times together in spite of everything, Xichen thought. Things had changed quite abruptly two years ago.

Lan Xichen had known for some time before Guangyao actually told him he was going to get married. He didn’t ask him about it, and said nothing to stop him. He understood why Guangyao needed to marry, not just to preserve the cultivation blood line (as Xichen was supposed to be doing as well), but to protect his image that he had cultivated so carefully. His only tie to self-worth, as he saw it. Xichen could never take that from him.

But after that, not only in public, Jin Guangyao stopped touching Xichen altogether. He was content in many ways with simply spending time with A-Yao, so he didn’t even notice at first. Until he attempted to kiss him once on a late evening in carp tower. A-Yao had pushed him away. He claimed Qin Su might come in at any moment. And that was the last time they discussed it. 

Despite everything, Xichen had always hoped that someday Jin Guangyao would overcome his insecurity as he had done before, and accept Xichen into his life again. Xichen never loved him any less. But the truth was, his hope was starting to run dry long before A-Yao’s betrayal ever became clear. 

Before he could stop it, a different image floated up in his mind. He wondered how Jiang Wanyin would react to intimacy in public. No doubt he would blush. He would likely bite his lip. Breathe harshly. Fight a little, but quickly give in due to his deeply romantic nature and devotion to those he loved. He would accept a kiss with a sweet expression of pain and gratitude. With their height difference, the small of his back would be easy for Xichen’s arm to wrap around to pull him closer.

Xichen gasped, suddenly drawn back into the present by his own self-disgust. He clasped a hand over his own eyes with shame, trying in vain to wipe away the image. He was astonished with himself. It was horribly inappropriate to have such a fantasy of anyone, but in particular Jiang Wanyin. Why was it that, when it came to Jiang Wanyin, he seemed only capable of heaping on mistake on another? 

"Er-ge..." a soft and familiar voice murmured his name.

Xichen sighed. He quickly wiped away all traces of his pain, thinking especially given the circumstances that this person didn't deserve the burden of them. He smiled warmly. "Yes?"

…

“No.”

Huaisang slowly let his grasp on Jiang Cheng’s neck slip away until he returned to his feet on the ground. His hands remained on Jiang Cheng’s chest as disappointment filled his eyes. 

“You really dislike me…?” he murmured meekly.

Jiang Cheng closed his eyes tightly, his headache making his normally poor emotional control even worse. His heart was still back where he left Xichen, and he really wasn’t equipped to answer this properly. The only thing he was certain of right now was a desire to be alone.

“I don’t hate you, Huaisang. I know I have nothing to hope for in him too. That doesn’t change anything.” He looked at the empty space beside him and almost felt his feelings for Xichen like a physical presence beside him, equally weighing him down, battering him, as it lifted him and filled him with an appreciation of life. He closed his eyes. “I don’t do things by halves. If I touched you, I wouldn’t be willing to let you go.”

Huaisang’s lips parted with a blush. “Oh…”

“If you understand then go to bed,” Jiang Cheng said, walking past him toward his door.

“Ah…Jiang-xiong!” Huaisang caught his arm to stop him. Even his grip was disarmingly tentative. His puppy eyes looked up pleadingly, and Jiang Cheng swallowed nervously, thinking he was out of his depth. “I do understand. But…I think you’re underestimating how much pain you’re in. I think I could make you feel better. And eventually…you might feel differently about me too. Will you consider it?”

Jiang Cheng observed the small creature before him with mixed emotions. Eventually he scoffed. “So you can talk properly when you want to. I shouldn’t underestimate you, Huaisang.”

“Don’t be mean! Just tell me you’ll think about it?”

Jiang Cheng had no intention of doing so, but he also knew how annoying Huaisang could be when he was disappointed. He nodded. 

To his surprise, Huaisang celebrated this good news by enclosing Jiang Cheng in a hug as he had done with Xichen earlier. Jiang Cheng also felt it was hard not to pat his shoulder comfortingly as Xichen had done. He wanted to leave the issue there, but at the second day of the conference, he found it increasingly difficult to avoid being aware of Xichen’s presence.

To all appearances, Zewu Jun and his brother sat in perfect mirror images side by side as ever, politely listening to the other cultivators’ discussion and now and then contributing when called upon to do so. But Jiang Cheng didn’t miss the pain which flickered across Lan Xichen’s face whenever there seemed to be a lull. He was filled with guilt at the thought that he had selfishly let his one-sided feelings injure so great a man. 

During a break as almost everyone got up, he noticed Zewu Jun remaining in his seat. His jaw tightened at the forlorn figure he made there, and how achingly beautiful he was in silent contemplation, somehow even more so with an aura of melancholy about him. Unable to bear the sight, he quickly got up and headed for a quiet staircase. His footsteps stopped halfway down as the pain in his heart made it difficult to keep moving.

He heard someone approach softly behind him. If it were an assassin, he thought, he was probably about to die. He had hardly felt so defenseless. But the figure stopped on the step just above him. Arms surrounded him and held him close. 

Nie Huaisang’s voice gently told him, “I think this is about right. This is how Er-ge holds people. How is it?”

Jiang Cheng let out a shuddering sigh. Much though Huaisang’s arms were much smaller and he felt his body temperature must be higher, he closed his eyes as he let himself imagine it was indeed Zewu Jun holding him. In that moment, though he had known for years now that he had eyes for no one else, he was shocked by the depth of his own love. What good was this emotion, if all it could do was make him miserable?

“Wanyin…” 

Jiang Cheng took in a shocked breath. It was definitely Huaisang’s voice, but hearing his name the way Zewu Jun said it sent strangely pleasant yet fearful feelings through him. 

“…that’s how he calls you, isn’t it?” Huaisang confirmed softly. 

“Huaisang…” Jiang Cheng started to object, but he couldn’t form his words properly. He covered his face with his hand, at a loss.

“It’s all right. You’re worrying far too much. You deserve to be happy, in whatever form that takes.” He sweetly rested his head against Jiang Cheng’s, a gesture that in spite of everything gave Jiang Cheng a brief but deeply comforting feeling of warmth. “Come to my room tonight.”

Jiang Cheng couldn’t answer. But Huaisang seemed to understand that, and after a moment, merely squeezed him just a little tighter before making off in the direction of the conference hall. Jiang Cheng had difficulty expressing gratitude at the best of times, but he definitely felt it toward Huaisang at this moment. He realized that his resistance was already worn down to almost nothing. Xichen would never look his way. Was it so wrong to look for comfort elsewhere?

It was with thoughts like this that he placated himself as, that evening, he stood outside the door of Nie Huaisang’s guest room in Carp Tower. He had only gotten to the point of slightly raising his hand, not even coming close to knocking on the door. It was then that his guilt started eating at him, saying even if Xichen didn’t care, this was still a betrayal of his own feelings. And none too kind toward Nie Huaisang. 

But then the door opened. Huaisang’s face showed relief and affection at seeing Jiang Cheng here after all. He didn’t hesitate to take his hand and bring the defenseless Jiang Cheng inside. Jiang Cheng finally let go of his doubts and decided the only thing to do now was just to leave everything to Huaisang.

To his surprise, the first thing Huaisang did, once they were alone in his bedroom, was carefully put a blindfold over Jiang Cheng’s eyes. 

“Huaisang…?” he asked in confusion.

“Here. Touch this.” Huaisang pushed something soft and fluttering into Jiang Cheng’s hands. Fabric? It was of high quality, a mix of gossamer and silk, soft and cold to the touch. “Smell,” Huaisang instructed, giving Jiang Cheng’s hands a light push upward. 

Jiang Cheng reluctantly obeyed and took a deep breath of the fragrance woven into the fabric. His lips parted and his heart pounded. He couldn’t say how he knew this, since he had never really been close enough to Xichen to tell, but he was certain he knew this rich and masculine scent of sandalwood, ice and moss. 

“This is…”

Huaisang enclosed Jiang Cheng’s hands in his own over the fabric. “It’s Er-ge’s robes. I paid one of his servants to hold back the one he wore yesterday from the washing.”

Jiang Cheng gasped and took a step back in fear, a feeling not aided by his vision being impeded. Not just Xichen’s robes, but ones he had recently worn? Despite his overwhelming guilt, Jiang Cheng’s whole body felt alive with excitement he had rarely allowed himself to feel. 

“Wait a moment,” Huaisang told him. 

There was a flutter of fabric, one set pooling on the floor, with sounds of the other being put on and arranged. Jiang Cheng was still close enough that the scent of Xichen’s clothes grew stronger with Huaisang’s body heat touching them. He shuddered. 

Huaisang took his hand, and despite his inhibitions, guided him over to the bed. Huaisang got on first, laying down on his back, and pulled Jiang Cheng in to kneel over him there. He grasped Jiang Cheng’s face in both hands, further sending Jiang Cheng’s heartbeat into a frantic rhythm. 

“Wanyin,” Huaisang murmured softly.

Jiang Cheng closed his eyes under the blindfold. He genuinely wanted to cry. He couldn’t understand how he could be feeling such a mess of guilt, excitement, pain and desire all at the same time. His hands, braced on either side of the body that smelled like Lan Xichen, were shaking. 

“Huaisang…I…” he tried to object, weakly shaking his head.

Huaisang didn’t speak. Instead, he tugged Jiang Cheng’s face down with a feather-light touch. As Jiang Cheng took in a panicked breath, soft lips touched his own. Sweet and terrifying pleasure ravaged Jiang Cheng’s entire body. His breath shook as their lips briefly parted and suddenly in his mind, it was Lan Xichen laying down beneath him. He grasped his face in both hands and indulged for the first time in his life in a kiss with all his heart. 

He was so deeply suffused in pleasure, making an effort to let go of his guilt even as he breathed in the scent of his beloved, that he didn’t hear the door open. 

“Wanyin…”

For an instant, he heard Lan Xichen’s voice and thought he was just imagining things. But he realized immediately that it had clearly come from behind him. As horror gradually spread throughout his body, he slowly sat back and away from Nie Huaisang. He heard Huaisang scramble up as well. 

“Er-ge…” Huaisang whispered in shock. 

Jiang Cheng felt frozen. There couldn’t be any worse feeling than this, he thought. He wanted to remove his blindfold, thinking it was the most vulgar thing about this whole situation. But he couldn’t move. Huaisang was ahead of him anyway.

“Er-ge…Er-ge!” Huaisang cried, suddenly running from the bed and collapsing into Lan Xichen’s arms. He cried there for a time, sobbing lightly and repeating Xichen’s name. 

“My…clothes?” Xichen murmured, clearly in horror and unable to cope with the scene he had just been exposed to. “Wanyin…did you…did you make Huaisang do this?”

Even as a single tear of frustration and despair rolled down Jiang Cheng’s cheek, he thought to himself that with this, the situation couldn’t possibly get any worse. With a shaking hand, he slowly reached for the blindfold and pulled it away. He still couldn’t bring himself to look in the direction of the other two. 

He expected Huaisang to come to his defense, not that it mattered anymore. However… 

“Er-ge…” Huaisang sobbed. He clung even harder to Xichen’s robes and sobbed wordlessly. With this, even without saying a word, he was effectively confirming Xichen’s assumption.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes flicked slightly in his direction with a bitter realization. He was a fool for underestimating Nie Huaisang. He was forced to remember how thoroughly this innocuous creature had deceived the most brilliant and deceitful cultivator that any of them knew, and managed to murder him at the hands of his own lover under the eyes of all, without a shred of evidence tied to him. Jiang Cheng even had the thought, at that moment, that he deserved what he got for believing him.

“Wanyin…this is…how could you?” Xichen whispered.

Jiang Cheng shifted his jaw, forcefully pushing down his feelings in order to save some scraps of his pride. He knew that nothing he said now would convince Lan Xichen that he had not intended this. Whether it was his idea or not, he had been unable to hold back from indulging in this twisted form of comfort. And though he did feel a small spark of anger at Huaisang’s quick betrayal, he couldn’t deny his own responsibility. 

“Er-ge…it’s okay…it’s not Jiang-xiong’s fault. Please just hold me!” 

Jiang Cheng quietly nodded to himself. So that was what it was. Not just throwing Jiang Cheng aside in a moment of panic, in order to preserve Lan Xichen’s opinion of him. This had never been about Jiang Cheng to begin with. Huaisang had planned this encounter carefully. Probably he had arranged for Lan Xichen to walk in on them too, although Jiang Cheng couldn’t say how. He had to admit it was clever. So, as Jiang Cheng was forced to be reminded over and over it seemed, truly no one could love him.

As Lan Xichen was busy comforting the distraught Nie Huaisang, Jiang Cheng slowly got to his feet beside the bed. As he looked down at where he and Huaisang had just been, he thought to himself briefly that this one moment of pleasure, with at least a semi-willing participant, might become his only memory of sharing affection with another human being. Indeed, he deserved Wei Wuxian’s laughter for a love life as pathetic as this. 

“That seems about right,” he muttered to himself. 

“What…?” Xichen asked softly, barely audible over Huaisang’s crying. Ever honorable, it seemed Xichen was still waiting for Jiang Cheng to offer up some explanation or defense for the scene he had just witnessed. But even if this hadn’t been his intention, it was true that Jiang Cheng had no defense. This was at least part of who he was, and he deserved Lan Xichen’s disgust for that.

Jiang Cheng didn’t bother answering and merely shook his head. He calmly walked past the two embracing, oddly wearing the same clothes but at a height difference that made them seem like father and son, and made his exit.

“Wanyin!” Xichen called after him, but together with Huaisang’s sobbing, Jiang Cheng had not the slightest desire to turn around.


	13. Lotus Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lan Xichen comes to terms with his blossoming feelings for Jiang Cheng, and seeks to restore their bond.

In Lan Xichen’s arms, a small and helpless creature cried and clung to him. Much though he was used to that from Huaisang, the fact that he was dressed in Lan Xichen’s clothes made him struggle against a rising feeling of disgust. Even wondering where he had got them made him deeply uncomfortable. There was also no way to consider the fact that Huaisang was dressed in his clothes without touching on the reason why. 

He could not explain the way he felt, thinking Jiang Wanyin had arranged to do this with Huaisang. To his own shock, it was not entirely disgust. A small part of him, gradually growing larger even as he thought about it, felt a glimmer of warmth. He slowly realized that, no matter the shape of their relationship, Jiang Wanyin was important to him. Hearing him say he could not love someone like Xichen had been eating away at him, giving an abiding feeling of worthlessness and despair. With this, some of the darkness inside him evoked by hearing those words had cleared.

But, as he quickly chastened himself, there was more to it than that. From the way Huaisang was crying, Jiang Cheng had asked him to do this against his will. Possibly even threatened or coerced him. No matter how much Xichen might care for him, that kind of behavior was unforgivable.

“Huaisang,” he murmured softly. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Huaisang’s fingers tightened over Xichen’s back, but he soon shook his head. With his voice muffled against Xichen’s chest, he whimpered quietly, “…I don’t want to say.”

Xichen sighed, moved by sympathy for him. It was understandable. Judging from this situation, there was no way to get around the fact that it seemed Huaisang’s feelings were one-sided. Truly, how cruel of Jiang Cheng to use an innocent person who selflessly loved him as a substitute for someone else. 

“Shall we have a cup of tea to calm down then?” Xichen asked.

Huaisang considered, but he shook his head to this too. 

“What can I do, Huaisang?”

Once again, he felt Huaisang’s fingers grasp him tighter. The difference in strength between them was such that it felt like being held by a child, only increasing Xichen’s sympathy for him. Slowly, Huaisang’s face turned up toward his. His eyes were glistening with tears, his cheeks a distressed red from crying, but even so he was adorable to look at. Xichen realized his eyes gradually grew dark with desire and fell on Xichen’s lips.

“Er-ge…” Huaisang murmured, in a honey-sweet voice Xichen had never heard from him before. His heart thrummed unexpectedly at the suggestive way Huaisang’s cute eyes passed from his own down to his lips again. “…could you…kiss me?”

Suddenly, the warmth and sympathy that Xichen felt for him hardened into cold and revulsion. He froze, suddenly very conscious of how much of his body was being touched. It made him want to jump out of his skin. He had never felt repulsion for another human being in his life. He tried to tell himself that Huaisang was the victim here, he didn’t deserve such negative feelings. But this feeling came from a deep place Xichen usually tried hard to keep under control, a place he was not well in touch with and thus exactly why he tended to be overly trusting. And in that moment, as his survival instincts kicked in, he realized what a fool he was.

How had he forgotten what this person had done? He had used him as a puppet to kill the only one he ever loved. At the time, Xichen had been so overwhelmed with guilt that he couldn’t blame anyone else. It was true, it was his hand that struck the blow. But every other piece that fell into place that night had been the direct result of years of careful planning and unrestrained murderous hatred of the small, defenseless creature clinging to him. He felt sick.

“…Er-ge…?”

Xichen shuddered just hearing him speak. Would he become another target of his revenge if he refused? He almost didn’t care. The spell had been broken and he could not see Huaisang’s face without picturing Shuoyue driving through A-Yao’s body. If he had been a different person, he would have thought of taking revenge himself for what he had been through that night, and what he had lost. As it was, there was only one course of action for Lan Xichen.

Much though he felt discomfort in his hands as if touching something dead, he grasped Huaisang firmly by the shoulders and pushed him back to arm’s length. 

Even at this small action, Huaisang looked heartbroken. That may have been genuine. “…Er-ge?” he whimpered.

As was his only tool for encountering negativity around him, Xichen looked on Huaisang with compassion. He took a deep breath and prepared to say words that he had been trying to say to himself since A-Yao died. 

“…Jin Guangyao deserved to die.”

Huaisang’s breath hitched. But true to his almost inhumanly skilled acting, otherwise his shock barely registered. He simply waited innocently for Xichen to explain.

“No one can deny it,” Xichen said softly, and he realized he was speaking mostly to himself. Despite how much it hurt, it was something he needed to hear spoken aloud. And since he wasn’t sure he could bear hearing it from someone else, it had to be him. “When I had the chance, I failed to save him from it at every turn, backing away when I knew he was going down the wrong path and abandoning him when the truth of his mistakes came to light. I must accept the burden of that knowledge.”

Xichen’s eyes hardened as he watched Huaisang, and he attempted to accept him, as he attempted to accept himself, for everything he was, both good and bad. “I do not blame you for your reasons. Anyone would agree you were justified. But day by day, for years, as we shared smiles and sadness together and built memories on lies, you used me as a tool to engineer the death of someone I loved. Isn’t that so, Huaisang?”

When he started speaking, he thought he would have more to say to Nie Huaisang. But once these words were out, he felt a weight lifted from him. He did not feel the need to say more. Huaisang had started looking away at some point, like a scolded child. His expression was difficult to read. 

“What is it you were really seeking from me?” Xichen pressed softly.

“I don’t know,” Huaisang muttered, for a moment not looking like himself. He suddenly looked like an adult, even though he was already past thirty and it was strange that Xichen hadn’t been thinking of him that way until now. “Maybe absolution. Maybe revenge. Er-ge…you remember what he did, don’t you? What that monster did to Da-ge…”

“…I remember.”

Huaisang’s face twisted with rage, his jaw tightening and eyes widening, utterly ruining his sweet image. “I’d have cut him apart piece by piece with my own hands if I could. There’s no death good enough for him, for the way he broke Da-ge’s body and desecrated his memory.”

Xichen tried to disguise the unease that struck the pit of his stomach at seeing the true extent of Huaisang’s hatred before his eyes. But he nodded lightly to show that he understood and accepted this.

“You really didn’t forget, Er-ge?” Huaisang hissed, his suddenly cold eyes flicking up suspiciously toward Xichen.

“I didn’t forget.”

Huaisang bared his teeth, unable to conceal his rage any longer. “Then how can you still say you loved him?!”

Xichen looked on him with pity. He sighed and slowly shook his head. “Love isn’t like that. It doesn’t stop because you want it to. If Da-ge had killed A-Yao first, we both would still have loved him, wouldn’t we?”

Huaisang’s face once again twisted, this time with horror. “But Da-ge was righteous! He only killed those who deserved it!”

“He never killed anyone in anger?”

“He…” Huaisang faltered. “…that’s not the same.”

“True. Killing someone in a moment of emotion is not the same as planning their murder,” Xichen said softly. Though he tried to avoid it, not wanting to actively place blame on Huaisang when he did indeed feel his actions were justified, he felt the heaviness of his own words strike Huaisang’s own doubts with precision. “What A-Yao did was selfish, it was malicious, and he needed to be stopped. But there is rarely a problem that can be divided evenly between black and white. Humans are even more complex. And I think you should know this well yourself, Huaisang, but human beings are more than the worst thing they have ever done.”

Huaisang seemed rooted to the spot in shock at these words. He seemed to be struggling to process them. In the end, perhaps even he wasn’t sure what he had been seeking from Lan Xichen. But whatever it was, he seemed to have lost his enthusiasm for it. He slowly buried his face in the sleeves of Xichen’s stolen robes. 

“…leave me alone, Zewu Jun…” he murmured pitifully.

Xichen knew there was nothing more he could say to him. He bowed, though he knew Huaisang was not looking. He turned with a heavy air and left Huaisang alone to ponder what this had all been about on his own. 

When he returned to the cold night air of Carp Tower, his thoughts turned toward Jiang Wanyin. He started to put the pieces together about what he had just seen. He had broken free of Huaisang’s plan when he asked for a kiss; Xichen knew from experience that someone who was really traumatized could never do that so lightly. That, together with the fact that Huaisang had invited him here, made it quite clear that Jiang Wanyin had just been another of Huaisang’s pawns. And if so…Xichen clasped his head in his hand in despair at the thought of what he had just said to him. 

He wanted to see him. The more he thought of him, the more Wanyin’s actions seemed inescapably precious. He ached at the thought that he had pushed Wanyin toward Huaisang, then showed disgust over it. And then he blushed at the thought that when he had come in, Jiang Wanyin had clearly been deeply and passionately kissing Huaisang, while apparently pretending he was Xichen. Wanyin had never touched Xichen. Not of his own will, not the most casual touch, not even once. He was clearly so deeply in love that he would accept any substitute, but he never pressed Xichen or expected anything from him. Xichen’s hand on his forehead tightened into a fist and he lowered it to his heart where he pressed it into the ache he felt there.

But quickly his tender happiness drained away. The way Wanyin had looked as he left just now, it was as if he had been hollowed out. As if he had nothing left. Wei Wuxian had said he was actually quite forgiving…but he had spent more than a decade without forgiving Wei Wuxian. Jiang Wanyin had suffered so much pain, losing almost everyone dear to him. Lan Xichen wasn’t certain he had ever known Wanyin to be happy. What if this last hurt had been too much? What if he couldn’t ever trust in happiness again?

Wait, Wei Wuxian had said. Give him time. The thought of leaving Jiang Wanyin in the state that he had been just now tore a large hole through Xichen’s chest…but by now he was deeply afraid that he was only capable of hurting Wanyin further. For that night anyway, Xichen clutched his hand tightly to his chest and held back his desire to see him.

…

The conference ended without further incident, and all clans dispersed. 

Lan Xichen, even among the Lan elder disciples, was known for his patience and dedication. Yet barely a month after the cultivation conference, during his and Lan Wangji’s daily handstand meditation, he lost his balance. Twice.

On the second time, he pushed himself up on his elbows from where he had fallen and lay there with his own mouth open in confusion. Nearby, Wangji stared at him with an upside-down expression of what, for him, was complete shock. He didn’t even address him. Just kept staring as if Lan Xichen had just laid an egg. And even despite this distraction and shock, he did not fail to maintain his balance.

“I…” Xichen started to explain. He managed awkward laugh. “I wonder if I have water in my ears from the Cold Pond. I can’t seem to concentrate. How embarrassing…”

Wangji closed his eyes with a sigh and reluctantly lowered his legs. He stood over his brother to address him. “Go to Yunmeng,” he said flatly.

“Yun…meng? I never said…”

“To Yunmeng,” Wangji insisted darkly. 

Xichen let out a heavy sigh. But when Wangji extended a hand to help him up, he accepted it. He might also have to accept that Wangji’s implication was perfectly correct. His mind was not where it should be, at peace in meditation here in the Cloud Recesses, but in fact somewhere among the flowering fields of Lotus Pier.

He had had no communication with Jiang Wanyin since then, even to apologize. His guilt over that and everything else had been chipping away at his attention each day, and by now he was barely even able to pay attention to his uncle’s lectures. He was sure a month was nowhere near enough time for Jiang Wanyin’s feelings to settle. Even if he went, besides apologize, he wasn’t sure he could do anything for Wanyin.

Even so, this distraction was now becoming a problem. Taking a leaf from Wei Wuxian’s book, he had a rather unorthodox idea. If he visited Yunmeng in secret, and saw that Jiang Cheng was healthy and all was well, it might ease some of his worries without having to bother Wanyin. There was a problem, however. 

No matter where any of the Lan went, they were quite noticeable. Their clan leader particularly so. He had an idea how to solve this problem, but he was mortified at the thought of any of the disciples seeing him. And no matter what, his uncle must never know.

There had recently been a wood-cutter who became lost in the mountains of Gusu whom the Lan had rescued and given food and fresh clothes before sending on his way. Lan Xichen happened to know that the disciples who cared for him had set his old clothes aside when he claimed not to need them. Fortunately the man had been quite tall. 

Xichen woke that day two hours before dawn. He obtained the clothes from the storage hut where they were kept, after which he sealed his spiritual energy and used secret paths to exit the Cloud Recesses without being seen. He sighed when he was a safe distance away, in the middle of the forest, and thought with a trace of regret that this was the second time he was having to remove all signs of the Lan sect from his body in this forest. Well, at least he had practice.

Though he had no mirror, he had to admit he found his own peasant appearance rather fetching. Before leaving, he once again wrapped his headband around his wrist, but this time folded his clothes neatly and left them in the hollow of a tree for when he would return, he thought that evening. 

Even on foot, he was surprised that Yunmeng was not as far as he thought. By the time the sun rose, he could already see vast lakes stretching ahead of him. The morning sun cast a joyful pink light on the water and surrounding greenery. The morning air in Gusu was always cold and crisp, but here in the valley it smelled sweet with a tinge of warmth already. 

The market towns he passed all had a peaceful feeling to them as well. Life seemed very egalitarian here; he spotted neither beggars nor anyone particularly wealthy. Unsurprisingly, he thought, Jiang Cheng was an excellent leader. And clearly beloved by the way people talked about him when he asked about recent goings-on. They were happy to tell him little things that the Jiang clan did for them, and how long it had been since there had been any famine or unrest here.

Xichen’s heart was warmed by all this, but in the end he felt he would be greatly disappointed if he did not see Jiang Cheng in person. The question was how to do that discreetly. As he got closer to Lotus Pier, he started asking whether Clan Leader Jiang was known to leave the compound regularly for any reason. Most people he asked didn’t know, but one person suggested he went to his family’s ancestral shrine quite often, especially in good weather. It was worth a try.

Xichen wandered past the gates of Lotus Pier, which he had visited many times as a guest before. It was truly a peaceful and welcoming place, even though his own heart lay in Gusu. 

He took his time finding his way toward what might be the ancestral shrine. It was unmistakable when he found it. Unsurprisingly, Yunmeng architects and artisans preferred lotuses for inspiration, and he could not fault them for that. The moderately sized gazebo rose up to a mighty ceiling of hanging tablets with the names of Jiang ancestors, and above it, the roof blossomed in asymmetrical and concentric petals of a gold lotus. He was touched to see that the building was quite old, but had clearly been frequently repaired and cleaned.

He found a tree not far away behind which he sat, legs crossed, to wait out the coming of the day and hopefully Jiang Wanyin. Unfortunately, having woken up so early and lacking his usual chores to keep him busy, he lapsed into sleep. Soon after, a fast-moving carriage flew by the tree where he was sleeping, and as it passed, a wheel dipped into a pool of mud.

SPLASH!

Lan Xichen woke with a jolt, quickly having to remove mud from his face to avoid choking on it. He hung his hands before him and let them drip miserably. Perhaps this had been a poor idea after all. 

Sadly, when he had cleared the mud away from his eyes, he was mortified to learn his ignominious moment had not gone unobserved. Not even a dozen yards away, the very man he had been waiting for was standing and had clearly been watching him for some time. Jiang Wanyin was staring at him like he’d seen a ghost. His expression quickly shifted however into something between pity and disgust. 

“…Zewu…Jun…?” he demanded incredulously. “…have you lost your mind?”

As Xichen tried to smile, a drop of mud fell from his chin to the earth beneath him, marking the awkward silence that arose between them. “I…think you may be mistaking me for someone-“

“Don’t even joke, you ridiculous man! Get inside, it’s pitiful just looking at you!”

So much for his plan to come incognito. He allowed Jiang Cheng to lead him inside Lotus Pier, where Jiang Cheng hurriedly hid his wretched appearance in a guest room and then called for a bath. He seemed anxious to know what was going on, so he stayed in the next room as Xichen carefully rid himself of filth in the warm and pleasantly fragrant water. 

“Did Cloud Recesses burn down? Or did Wei Wuxian explode something?” Jiang Cheng asked harshly, his voice strong enough to be hardly impeded by the several screens and walls between them. 

Xichen chuckled in spite of himself. “Everything’s fine. But thank you for your concern, Wanyin.”

Jiang Cheng paused. “All right. So you’ve lost your mind then.”

“I’m afraid if I lost it, it must have been long ago, because I feel the same as always.”

The Jiang clan leader scoffed. From the sound of his footsteps, he seemed to be pacing, uncertain. “So you’re going to make me fish for what you were doing outside my home, dressed like the shabbiest mud spirit?”

It would be difficult to explain to Jiang Cheng why he was here without treading in places he thought he had no right to. Xichen idly swirled the warm water around with his hand as he thought of how to skirt the truth. But every vague phrase that came to him only seemed to lead to more questions. In the end, he was silent for too long and Jiang Wanyin began to draw his own conclusions.

“Oh…checking up on me…” Jiang Wanyin murmured, seemingly to himself. Fortunately he spoke loudly even when only speaking to himself, so Xichen caught it.

“I…I was only worried about how you were. It wasn’t my intention to be nosy or intrude.”

For a time, it seemed Jiang Wanyin wouldn’t answer. He had stopped pacing as well. Xichen had a bad feeling about that, but he couldn’t imagine what Wanyin was thinking now. 

“…can’t you just leave me alone?” Wanyin muttered, this time softly enough that Xichen almost didn’t hear.

Xichen’s chest felt split open at hearing this soft plea. “Wanyin…” he murmured.

“I’m sorry,” Jiang Cheng said, with unusual grace. “Forget I said that. You’re all right to get back to Gusu on your own, aren’t you? If so then I have duties.”

“Wanyin!”

Xichen quickly rose from the bath and grasped the undergarment of the fresh set of robes that Jiang Cheng had prepared for him. He quickly wrapped himself in it and swept into the next room just as Jiang Cheng’s hand was reaching for the door. 

“Please wait a moment,” he said, and he felt his heart start to pound as he mentally prepared for what he was about to say.

Wanyin’s hand slowly lowered. He didn’t even glance in Xichen’s direction. He looked like a man condemned, his head hanging low and brows crossed in grim determination. He let out a slow breath. 

“If you want an apology…I won’t say you don’t deserve one,” Wanyin muttered. “But if someone had done that to me, an apology wouldn’t mean anything. So I didn’t.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Xichen assured him. 

Jiang Cheng showed slight surprise at this, but still refused to even grant Lan Xichen a glance. “Did Huaisang send you? Or Wei Wuxian?”

“I came on my own.”

Jiang Cheng closed his eyes with a look of exasperation. “You can’t just say things like that. I’ve tried so many times to explain to you, Zewu Jun. My brain doesn’t work right when it comes to you. I’ll just misinterpret everything.”

“What is there to misinterpret? I came because I was worried and wanted to see you.”

“…are you really that pure-hearted? You even worry about people who do disgusting things like that?” Jiang Cheng asked mockingly.

“…I was relieved,” Xichen said honestly and very quietly. 

Finally, he was rewarded with a glance. Jiang Cheng looked him up and down in shock but soon blushed at his sparsely attired appearance and looked away. “Wh-…what does that mean?” he muttered.

“Even when I thought it was your idea. It’s the truth. When I thought you still wanted to do things like that with me, I was relieved. It hurt much more when you said you would stop loving me.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes seemed to be attempting to read the ground in front of him. He didn’t seem able to comprehend what he was hearing. “So…it’s an ego-boost then?” he guessed softly.

Xichen was horrified by the suggestion. “No,” he said firmly, worried but not surprised by Wanyin’s negativity. “At least I don’t believe so. Or I would not have been so distracted by thoughts of you that I am almost useless in my duties.”

Jiang Cheng gritted his teeth in anguish. “Stop lying…!” he hissed. He held his head in his hands, completely at a loss. “What are you doing here…? Go home, Zewu Jun.”

Xichen ached for him. He unfortunately realized that he might have a soft spot for deeply broken men, whom the world had rejected in one way or another. But whether or not there was a good reason for it, the fact was that the man before him was too precious and charming in every way, even making him feel it was a gift just to be in his presence. He cautiously stepped toward him. 

“There is no doubt that I care for you,” he murmured. “But it seems I also need you nearby me. Wanyin…you are the only bright spot since A-Yao left. I don’t expect anything from you, but please let me do what I can to make someone dear to me a little happier. And if possible, without depriving me of your company.”

Jiang Cheng looked up at him in shock, and Xichen could quiet clearly see the tears streaming one after another down his face as he tried to cope with Xichen’s words. “Wh-…” he tried, but helplessly soon gave up. He glared at the ground again as if it owed him answers. “You…don’t mind…being around me?” he muttered carefully.

Xichen gave a soft sigh of pity, trying to think of a way he could give Jiang Wanyin even the smallest idea of how important his existence had already become to him. “…Wanyin. May I hold you?”


	14. Sword Oil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lan Xichen is finally able to show Jiang Cheng what he means to him.

“…Wanyin. May I hold you?”

Wanyin flushed, blinking rapidly in a way Xichen found irresistibly sweet. “…n-no,” he mumbled.

Xichen nodded in acceptance, carefully hiding his disappointment. “In that case then you will have to rely on my words. Far from tolerating your presence, Wanyin, it is painful for me to imagine life without you near.”

Jiang Cheng had stopped crying by now, but he still seemed deeply distrustful. “You…there’s something wrong with you, if you really think that.”

“…you mean you don’t feel the same way?”

Jiang Cheng scoffed. “Even I don’t like my own presence. How could you?”

Xichen blinked in surprise at how he had interpreted his words, lamenting a world that had so damaged his self-confidence, but felt a rush of relief that Jiang Cheng wasn’t outright rejecting him. “No…” he tried to explain. “I meant…how do you feel being around me?”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened, even though he was still looking at the floor, nowhere near Xichen. He seemed completely out of his depth. 

“Do you dislike it?”

Jiang Cheng let out a shuddering breath as if he had been holding something in for a long time. He didn’t respond.

“Are you happy when you’re with me?”

With this, the Jiang clan leader’s eyes hesitantly flicked toward the ground near Xichen’s bare feet. His lips parted in a soft sigh, but he still didn’t seem able to speak. Xichen’s heart pounded as he watched him. Jiang Cheng’s every little gesture seemed incredibly dear, to the point it was painful not to reach out and hold him. 

“…do you imagine doing things with me?”

Jiang Cheng gasped heavily. He covered his face with his hand and seemed to be trying to rid his mind of thoughts that Xichen had intentionally placed there. Xichen took another step toward him, deeply relieved when, for once, Jiang Wanyin didn’t back away from him, even when they were close enough to touch. 

It ached for Xichen to be so close but unable to close the gap between his own heart and Wanyin’s. But as they stood here and he tried to see things from Jiang Cheng’s perspective in order to become closer to him, he realized something. 

“Wanyin…if Master Wei hadn’t said anything, were you ever planning on telling me how you felt?”

“Don’t joke,” Jiang Cheng muttered at last, another tear running down his cheek even though his expression didn’t change. “Even before you were taken by a psychopath, you were still Zewu Jun.”

Xichen had heard something similar before. He fortunately realized before the thought reached his lips that Jiang Wanyin would not appreciate being told he had said something similar to Jin Guangyao. Knowing and loving someone like A-Yao, who put him on a pedestal, had given Xichen some valuable experience in this matter. But though both of them were prideful, Jiang Cheng had an inferiority complex that was quite different from Jin Guanyao’s. He never turned it against others.

“Mm,” Xichen admitted to Jiang Cheng’s observation. “But I’m not Zewu Jun today. You see?” 

He held up his arms to show the soft lilac of the robe Jiang Cheng had selected for him. It was a color he would never normally wear. Not to mention he was not in the habit of visiting people in his underwear. At this angle his headband was hidden around his wrist, so he wore only Jiang colors, his hair hanging loose around his shoulders, almost as if he were being accepted into the Jiang house on his wedding night. 

Jiang Cheng’s his lips parted as he hesitantly looked over Xichen’s body. His eyes seemed enthralled by the contrast of soft purple over Xichen’s porcelain skin, and the novelty of seeing Xichen in anything but white and ice blue. Finally he reluctantly met his gaze. For the first time, he looked into Xichen’s eyes and noticed how different he looked without a headband. At the same time, Xichen thought that Jiang Wanyin’s face at that moment was more beautiful than he had ever seen it.

“I came here today as Xichen,” he said gently. “Your friend. Nothing more. So Wanyin…rather than Zewu Jun, but how do you feel about Xichen?”

Wanyin looked carefully, almost adoringly, over his face. Xichen’s heartbeat rose as he even took another step toward him, seeming in wonder. Wanyin’s breathing was heavy, deep emotion flickering in his eyes. But in the end, he cast his gaze bitterly away.

“You’re still…”

Xichen’s heart sank, thinking that his efforts had still not been enough. “Still what?” he pressed.

Jiang Cheng sniffed a little, but Xichen’s heart nearly burst from his chest as the younger man leaned forward slightly and very cautiously rested his head against Xichen’s chest. “…perfect,” he murmured.

“Wanyin…” Xichen whispered, and nearly closed his arms around Jiang Cheng. He stopped with just a hair’s breadth between his fingers and Wanyin’s back. He took a deep breath to try to control his emotions. “…may I hold you?” he asked again.

Jiang Cheng’s breathing heightened. He hesitantly rested his knuckles lightly against Xichen’s chest and gritted his teeth. But in the end he only made a noise of frustration and didn’t answer.

“I don’t want to hurt you again, Jiang Wanyin. I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”

Jiang Cheng made another adorably pathetic noise. “Stop asking!” he cried.

Xichen’s heart fell again. He lowered his hands from hovering over Wanyin’s back and nodded. “All right.”

Wanyin looked down at his hands in wonder for a moment, but then to Xichen’s surprise it seemed as if he would cry again. He hit Xichen’s chest, just hard enough to hurt a little. “I meant…just do what you want. I feel like my heart’s about to explode. I can’t tell you how much I want you or I’ll die of shame!”

Xichen looked down at the nearly crying Jiang Wanyin with deep warmth and gratitude. “So you do want me?” he affirmed softly.

Wanyin sniffed, but again laid his head on Xichen’s chest. “…shameless…” he mumbled.

“Hm?”

“Yes! You narcissist!” Wanyin cried, clenching his fists against Xichen’s chest. “Stop testing me! If you don’t hold me right now I’m going to kick you!”

Xichen laughed joyfully. With no further hesitation, he laid his arms softly around the hard and slightly trembling body of Jiang Wanyin. His heart felt strained at how happy he was, but at the same time desire and warmth spread rapidly through his whole body. He was grateful that Wanyin’s face was still buried against his chest, so from this angle he wasn’t aware of the effect he was already having on Xichen’s lower half. That is, until he relaxed a little into Xichen’s arms and took another step closer.

Jiang Cheng’s leg brushed the center of Xichen’s body. Xichen flinched, while Jiang Cheng let out a small breath of surprise. Xichen closed his eyes and tightened his hands, avoiding placing any pressure on Jiang Cheng’s body as he got his desire under control. 

“If you want to stop here, I don’t mind. I can go back to Gusu right now,” Xichen said reassuringly. “Wanyin…I’m so happy I feel strange. Like my chest has wings and could fly away. I don’t need anything more than this.”

To his surprise, given his resistance up until now, without a word Jiang Wanyin ran his hands up Xichen’s chest, wrapping them around his neck to pull their bodies as close as possible. Despite the bold nature of this move, Wanyin’s trembling had increased. Everything about these tender actions only worsened the gathering desire in between Xichen’s legs.

He closed his eyes and held Jiang Wanyin more tightly. All either one could hear for long moments as they held each other tightly was the other’s breath and heartbeat. Xichen was torn between savoring this blissful moment and the need rising up slowly but steadily inside him. His eyes fluttered closed as he squeezed Jiang Cheng yet tighter still.

“Wanyin…” he murmured, very softly in his ear. Even so the younger man flinched and shivered a little. “…the way you were kissing Huaisang…is that what you want to do to me?”

Jiang Cheng’s breathing heightened. His grip loosened slightly to pull away and he looked down at Xichen’s chest in shame. “I…don’t really have…a preference…”

“Oh? Pity. It looked like it felt very good.”

A flush lit up Jiang Cheng’s cheeks as he frowned hard at Xichen’s chest. He looked up at him with frustration, but also Xichen thought, a desire even deeper than Xichen’s. Embarrassed, but extremely devoted, just as Xichen had once imagined, but even more endearing when right before his eyes. 

Wanyin’s eyes were softly lidded as they gazed on Xichen’s lips. Glancing up repeatedly toward Xichen’s eyes for reassurance, Jiang Cheng drew in close until each could feel the other’s breath on their lips. Neither was able to tear their gaze away as Wanyin, with ragged breath, barely touched Xichen’s lips to his. 

Xichen briefly felt the strength leave his legs as pleasure thrummed up his spine. His lips were tingling. He panted to restore his breath but next found Jiang Cheng kissing him so deeply he had nowhere to run. Unlike Jin Guangyao’s delicate and entreating kisses, Jiang Cheng was like a starving wolf. He kissed Xichen so deeply and hungrily it was as if he was trying to swallow him whole.

Xichen was so overwhelmed by unusual sensations, and a deep satisfaction at being cared for, that he really was worried he would fall. “Wanyin…” he gasped as their lips parted. Jiang Cheng kept kissing him regardless, so he had to find gaps as they parted for breath. “…is there…a bed?”

Jiang Cheng gradually slowed his kisses, seeming reluctant to stop suddenly. He held Xichen’s face in both hands as he now placed brief, soft and affectionate kisses against his lips instead of his knee-shaking ones. Finally he let out a reluctant breath and rested his forehead against Xichen’s. 

Wanyin flicked his eyes briefly behind him. “The next room.” But after having said this, he seemed once again to become entranced while looking at Xichen’s face up close. His fingers softly caressed his cheek while his eyes took in each part separately with equal ardor.

Xichen chuckled. “If we don’t go there soon you may need to carry me. Your wild style of kisses made me weak in the knees.”

Jiang Cheng gasped and his eyes fluttered in embarrassment. Nonetheless, Xichen thought he looked a little bit happy. He nodded and quite naturally took Xichen’s hand to guide him into the next room. As soon as the bed came into view, somehow Xichen seemed to forget his own complaint from earlier. He saw the back of Jiang Cheng’s neck and couldn’t resist pulling him close from behind and sucking down on the sensitive skin just below his ear.

Despite his earlier masculine and demanding approaches, suddenly Wanyin shuddered with a blissful cry, all but collapsing back against Xichen. Embarrassment mixed with pleasure as he panted loudly while Xichen sucked, bit and deeply licked the skin of his neck. 

“Z-Zewu Jun…” he gasped, clinging to Xichen’s arm around his waist. “It’s just there…”

“Mm,” Xichen murmured against his neck, provoking another sweet moan from him. “My apologies.”

Somehow or other they both managed to sit on the bed. Once there, they could not stop from reaching for each other again. Xichen pushed Jiang Cheng back into the bed and made sure with firm and tender kisses that he knew how precious he was. Once Xichen was on top, Wanyin’s resistance seemed to melt away and he pulled desperately at Xichen’s robe, bringing him closer. But as soon as he realized that Xichen intended to go slowly, Jiang Cheng seemed to lose his patience and flipped the taller man over onto his back.

Earlier embarrassment gone with the wind, Wanyin crawled over Xichen’s body, resting his leg between Xichen’s and pressing their hips together. Xichen let his head fall back with a pleasant gasp, only to find it quickly swallowed by more of Wanyin’s hungry kisses. He moaned against Wanyin’s mouth, even louder as Wanyin’s tongue dove inside his mouth, tasting every part he could reach. 

Xichen didn’t know what Wanyin had in mind, but at this rate he wouldn’t last long. Still, it felt much too good to stop. He blissfully wrapped his arms around Wanyin and impatiently shifted his hips beneath him. 

Even more enticing, Wanyin’s voice soon joined his in soft but desperate moans as he felt Xichen’s hips moving against his own. He started to reciprocate, first matching Xichen’s movements and then twitching with pleasure and increasing the pace. 

“Xi…Xichen…”

Xichen shivered, his fingers unintentionally digging into Wanyin’s back. Hearing his name like that sent pleasant chills up his spine. He couldn’t help sliding both hands down Wanyin’s back and clinging tight to his hips, pulling them harder together. 

Wanyin gasped loudly and couldn’t keep up his passionate kissing anymore. He curled in on himself, resting his head on Xichen’s shoulder as he thrust against him, guided by Xichen’s hands. It felt so good, Xichen badly wanted to finish just like this. But if it ended there, he knew for certain he would regret not being able to see and touch Jiang Cheng’s naked body directly. 

With little warning, he pushed himself up to a seated position, effectively setting Wanyin on his lap. Once there, he kissed him deeply to reassure him, but then began to search for the fastenings of his clothes. Jiang Cheng quickly caught on and undid his belt, letting it drop flatly to the floor. He shrugged off his yi and Xichen was all to happy to untie both sides of his zhongyi, sliding his hands inside to feel the bare skin of his chest as he pushed the garment from Wanyin’s shoulders.

Wanyin let out a cute moan at this, but the next moment, he pushed Xichen back down beneath him. He guided him up so his head was resting on the pillow, and once there, he began boldly exploring Xichen’s body with his hands. 

Xichen swallowed heavily in anticipation just watching him. Even when A-Yao had been on top, he hadn’t really taken charge. Xichen didn’t think of himself as passive at all, but to be wanted this badly, and to be handled a little roughly, somehow deeply excited him. On top of which, he was very conscious of the fact that Jiang Cheng’s upper body was incredibly lean and well-built, each muscle visibly flexing as he moved. Just a few moments of this sexy and masculine person touching him made it difficult to stay calm.

“Wait…” Xichen said softly. 

Jiang Cheng froze, and Xichen belatedly realized he should avoid sounding disapproving or rejecting around him. He quickly lifted both hands to Jiang Cheng’s diadem. He pulled out the pin, setting it on the bedside table, then the crown after it. He conscientiously loosened the tie which remained, and moments later, Jiang Cheng’s course locks tumbled down around both of them. 

Xichen smiled warmly up at him, but seeing Wanyin’s wild locks all around and his hungry and yet devoted gaze peering out through them made his heart skip a beat. He nodded tentatively. 

“Please keep touching me, Wanyin.”

Wanyin seemed touched by everything that he had just done. Before returning to his pleasant endeavor, he leaned down and clasped Xichen’s whole head in his arms as he kissed him firmly. Xichen did not know whether to be happy or sad in that moment, as his happiness at being touched by Jiang Wanyin was beginning to make him scared of losing it. 

He soon had other worries however, as Wanyin drew back once again to feel the contours of Xichen’s body slowly and possessively with both hands. First over the robe that he had given him, then untying both sides and cautiously parting the garment so everything but Xichen’s shoulders was laid bare before his eyes. Wanyin once again seemed entranced. Xichen blushed, not embarrassed about his body but certainly by its vulgar state at the moment. 

Jiang Wanyin on the other hand seemed at his limit of patience. He grasped Xichen’s thigh in one hand and placed a deep kiss against the inner part. Xichen shivered, tightening his hands in the sheets. He quickly became afraid of what would happen if Wanyin touched the hottest part of his body, if he already felt this good. 

His fear was immediately tested as Jiang Wanyin unhesitatingly drew him into his mouth. Xichen choked out a gasp, his hips backing away from the intense pleasure of being completely swallowed. He felt guilty to keep comparing them, but he now for the first time realized how small Jin Guangyao’s mouth was. Not that Wanyin’s was especially large, but A-Yao could barely fit half of Xichen into his mouth. Wanyin didn’t hesitate to swallow Xichen as deeply as he could, nearly reaching the base already and then extending that further with his tongue. 

Xichen gritted his teeth in agony at trying not to cum right away. This was torture. His whole mind was filled with Wanyin’s tongue as his mouth retreated but he continued tasting every inch of Xichen’s shaft along the way. Wanyin swallowed him again and Xichen couldn’t hold back a rather pathetic moan. He covered his eyes with his hand, trying to get some control back. 

Fortunately Jiang Wanyin soon wanted to move on too. “Zewu Jun…” he muttered, seeming to have regained some of his embarrassment as soon as they paused. “…I don’t really know how cut-sleeves do things,” he admitted, blushing with an adorable frown. “But…in Huaisang’s books there’s more than this…”

Xichen chuckled at his endearing innocence. He nodded. “There is.”

While frowning down at the sheets, Wanyin mumbled, “Then…can you teach me?”

Xichen nodded, sitting up and clasping Wanyin’s cheek in his hand. He took the time to admire it once again, how his every expression seemed to tug relentlessly at Xichen’s heartstrings. 

“First, we have to decide who gives and who receives,” Xichen said softly. But even at his own words, he felt yet more painful excitement throb through his lower body. Wanyin likewise blushed and his eyes hovered around Xichen’s lips as if he were holding back the urge to kiss him. “I can do either. So it’s up to you, Wanyin. Do you want to make me moan, or do you want to feel me inside you?”

Jiang Cheng’s breath was coming in ragged gasps as he listened to the outrageous words coming from Lan Xichen’s mouth. Xichen expected more aggression and embarrassment, and that he would again defer to Xichen. Instead, just one utterly adorable word.

“B-…both…” Wanyin whispered.

Xichen had to close his eyes and concentrate not to cum just from hearing that. He shuddered and nuzzled Jiang Cheng’s neck in desperation. Into his ear, he whispered, “Then you be on top the first time. I’m nearly done for.”

Jiang Cheng hesitantly held Xichen, seeming uncertain exactly what he meant but sensing he needed comfort. 

“We need something like oil,” Xichen told him softly. 

Wanyin blinked, thinking about that. “I think there’s some oil for my sword somewhere in here.”

Xichen didn’t completely manage to hide his chuckle at how appropriate that was for Jiang Cheng. He nodded against his shoulder, feeling yet another thrill at the incredible hardness of Wanyin’s body beneath his fingers. 

Wanyin broke away from him to rummage around in the next room, returning with sword oil as he promised. Xichen lay back in the bed and opened his arms to beckon Wanyin closer. Jiang Cheng flushed but obediently climbed on top of him again. 

“We may have to be a little patient,” Xichen admitted, caressing Wanyin’s face affectionately. “It’s been many years since I last did this.”

“Years?” Jiang Cheng repeated curiously. 

Xichen’s gaze lowered. “…things with A-Yao had been getting worse for some time…I actually don’t remember the last time he did this for me.”

Hurt rippled through Jiang Cheng’s face, and Xichen gasped as he realized how rude it was to bring up a former lover at a time like this. But contrary to his expectations, Jiang Cheng grasped his hand in a tender gesture of comfort. 

“It’s okay,” he said, with unaccustomed gentleness. “…if you miss him.”

Xichen let out a shuddering breath, utterly captivated by the precious man before him. He rather wished Jiang Cheng would give his heart a break by being so adorable with everything he did. It was painful how much Xichen cared about him already.

Xichen pushed himself up to place a tender kiss against Jiang Cheng’s cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered. “But I only want to think about you right now. There is truly no one like you, Jiang Wanyin.”

Jiang Cheng seemed unconvinced by this, but he did lean his head sweetly against Xichen’s hand as he stroked his face, and squeezed his other hand a little. 

“I hope you won’t be disgusted,” Xichen murmured regretfully. “Or do you already know the part of the body that men use?”

Wanyin blinked for a moment before he blushed and seemed to realize what Xichen meant. He nodded tightly. “I figured.”

Xichen admitted feeling a little relieved, having worried that some of Wanyin’s prejudice toward Wei Wuxian would linger, but he seemed all right with the idea. “It will be tight at first,” Xichen explained. “It will help to use the oil to massage the entrance for a while first.”

He expected some resistance at this explanation, but Jiang Cheng seemed just as eager as he was. He dipped two fingers in the oil, grasped one of Xichen’s legs in his other hand and slid his oiled fingers against Xichen’s entrance. Xichen shuddered blissfully. He could hardly wait to feel Jiang Cheng’s fingers inside him. He encouragingly shifted his hips to meet the movements of Wanyin’s fingers even as he only massaged him for now. 

“When…you feel it start to loosen a little…try one finger first…” Xichen said, trying to sound calm but already fighting the urge to cum again.

Jiang Cheng obediently kept doing what he was doing until Xichen was starting to get impatient. Finally, with a hesitant glance up at Xichen’s face for confirmation, he slipped one finger inside. 

Xichen gasped, surprised by the extent of the pleasure already echoing through him. He had to pause for a moment to get used to it. Why was he feeling it so much? He realized that Jiang Cheng’s forceful kisses from earlier had primed his body to be ravaged by him. This was going to be hard going for him, just waiting until his own body was ready. 

Jiang Cheng was watching his face intently. He slid his finger slowly in and out, paying close attention to how Xichen reacted. 

Xichen swallowed, realizing he hadn’t finished explaining. “That’s good, Wanyin,” he managed softly. “If you go…a little deeper…there’s a spot that-ah!”

Xichen’s speech was interrupted by Jiang Cheng’s finger easily sliding up and rubbing against his prostate. Xichen arched his back, momentarily swallowed up by the intense feeling. What should he do? At this rate he was going to cum just from one finger. How embarrassing. 

He nodded, trying to conceal how much trouble he was in. “Yes…most men feel especially good there. But…it’s a little intense, so try not to concentrate there.”

Wanyin watched Xichen with fascination as he gently stroked him, now and then brushing his prostate and causing Xichen to twitch and bite his lip. “Xichen…” he murmured softly. “Can I put in another?”

Xichen had no presence of mind to wonder about how forward that question was. He quickly nodded. 

Wanyin’s second finger entered him with a light twinge of discomfort, which fortunately had the side effect of helping Xichen to calm down a little. He closed his eyes and relaxed into the sensation of being slowly opened up. After a while, he completely forgot that he was supposed to be giving instructions, softly moaning and shifting under Wanyin’s careful attentions.

“…another?” Wanyin pressed him softly after a time.

“Ah…yes…” Xichen murmured.

With the third finger, though again there was some discomfort, Xichen let out a loud moan. His eyes fluttered. Heat was pooling in the core of his body, his desire to be filled by Jiang Cheng filling up his head completely. Despite the small worry that it was too soon, he tried once or twice to ask Jiang Cheng to hurry up and put it in. Each time, his words flew off with a thrust of Wanyin’s fingers and he was soon a quivering mess.

Whether or not Wanyin realized this, he had either judged Xichen to be loose enough or he had reached his own limit. His fingers slowly drew out of Xichen, leaving him feeling bereft momentarily. Then his hot member pressed to his entrance and Xichen quickly looked up to see an incredibly overwhelming sight.

Jiang Wanyin grasped both Xichen’s knees as he lined up his narrow waist beneath Xichen’s. His stomach muscles rippled as he pressed forward, sliding inch after inch of hot flesh inside Xichen. His hungry gaze drew up to Xichen’s and suddenly that was all Xichen could take.

With Wanyin barely more than halfway in, Xichen gripped his shoulders, unintentionally leaving bruises where he touched, and his body tensed as he let out a desperate cry.

Both men shuddered with the sensations rolling down Xichen’s body, causing him to tighten around Jiang Cheng. Cum streaked Xichen’s own chest, his cock already spent but still dripping and throbbing against his stomach. He had a brief thought that he was a poor teacher, but then all sentient thought was quickly driven from him.

Jiang Cheng thrust all the way in and only paused briefly there before surrounding Xichen in his arms and holding him tightly as he claimed his insides with powerful thrusts. 

Xichen hadn’t quite finished cumming and was still so sensitive, his whole lower half was burning. Not to mention he could feel Jiang Cheng’s breath against his chest, while his arms, wrapped around the small of Xichen’s back, seemed to be squeezing the life out of him in a way that was unbearably exciting. Xichen was soon reduced to indistinct, babbling moans, feeling as if his mind were under attack from relentless pleasure.

But Jiang Cheng wasn’t done ravaging Xichen’s mind. “Xichen…” he gasped.. “Xichen…Xichen…!”

Though Xichen could barely manage words at this point, he struggled, “Wan…yin…”

Wanyin released his back to clasp Xichen’s face in his hands and thrust his tongue inside his mouth. Xichen moaned in agony at the pleasure of having Jiang Cheng thrust both above and below. He halfheartedly tried meeting the movements of Wanyin’s tongue with his own but the pleasure was robbing him of conscious thought. He only hoped Wanyin had some idea of the wonderful and terrible things he was doing to him.

Every now and then a sweet moan fell from Wanyin’s mouth into his own. Finally Wanyin seemed unable to concentrate on two things at once and drew away to gaze with rapt attention on Xichen’s disheveled expression as he pumped brutally inside him. 

Xichen by now had lost all dignity. High moans were forced from his mouth over and over against his will. He could feel every inch of Wanyin sliding in and out of him, brushing his prostate twice with each thrust and each time making his vision go dark. But every time his attention drifted elsewhere he received further attacks of pleasure and excitement. Jiang Cheng’s hard and slender hips pounding against his ass. His large, calloused hands gripping Xichen’s knees and forcing his hips into fuckable position. The muscles across his belly, chest and biceps taughtly rippling. His gasps. And finally Xichen once again lost control as he gave in to the desire to see Jiang Wanyin’s desperate, hungry expression peering out through his wild mane of black hair.

Xichen’s body tightened into an arch and his throat closed. He had started dry cumming, and because Wanyin was still pumping inside him the feeling didn’t stop. He tried to beg Wanyin to stop, fearing he would lose his mind. But he couldn’t form words. He sucked in gasps of air as pleasure threatened to drown him. 

Wanyin cried out at the forces of Xichen’s body tightening around him. This, and seeing Xichen flailing beneath him, were all he could take. He yelped as he started cumming inside him, not even realizing it himself at first. They were both completely overwhelmed for minutes on end as the sensations driving through them echoed back and forth from one to the other. 

Xichen slowly began to release the tension from his back. Wanyin collapsed his head against Xichen’s chest and held his shoulder as if for reassurance. Xichen wanted to give him comforting words, certain this would be a lot for a beginner as it was more than enough for him. But he found it was all he could do to stay awake. Pleasure like this must be wrong somehow, he thought, exhausted. But it didn’t stop him from reaching up to squeeze the hair at the back of Wanyin’s neck appreciatively.

Once the feeling had finally faded, they collapsed side by side, regaining their breath. Xichen didn’t even realize as they both grasped hands, even as exhausted as they were. He reluctantly opened his eyes to gaze admiringly at the beautiful person glowing with sweat, his unforgiving brows furrowed cutely. For the first time in years, Xichen felt as he once had, that he was the luckiest person in the world. To have not only one great love of his life, but two. Though it would have to wait at least a little while, he could hardly wait to give Jiang Wanyin everything he had just given him.


	15. Willow Grove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jiang Cheng starts to understand how much Lan Xichen does indeed care about him, with the help of an enchanting change of clothes, and a slight misuse of the Lan headband.

Jiang Cheng woke with a gasp the following day, sitting bolt upright. Memories of the previous night came back to him all at once in a cascade of shame, cautious joy and disbelief. 

He hardly needed to look down to confirm that last night had not been a dream. Apart from the fact that he was in a guest room instead of his own, among the familiar Jiang colors and other objects he was used to seeing, two extremely long, slender and fair legs were nestled nearby his own among the purple sheets. He couldn’t breathe for a moment. 

He surrounded his face in his hands and tried to take stock. He had slept with Lan Xichen. Zewu Jun was lying in a bed beside him. What’s more, it had been better than he had ever imagined. This couldn’t be right. 

Without moving his hands from his face, he ever so carefully turned his head, trying to avoid making any noise or shifting the bed. Once he did, his heart could barely cope with the sight he found on the pillow where his own head had just been lying moments ago.

Tumbling, sleek locks of deep, lustrous black surrounded and framed his face and shoulders. They dripped down onto the bare parts of his chest, where some evidence of Jiang Cheng’s overenthusiasm stood out cruelly pink against the porcelain skin. And in a deep, peaceful sleep, Lan Xichen’s impeccably handsome face seemed to glow softly while resting against Jiang Cheng’s pillow. 

Jiang Cheng finally, slowly let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He was entranced. Lan Xichen would soon be entering his late thirties, but looked hardly different from when they had first met. If he looked closely, he could see subtle laugh lines around his mouth and eyes, which only enhanced the gentleness of his features. His flawless skin, which Jiang Cheng now knew was also smooth and naturally somewhat cold to the touch, seemed further evidence of his peaceful spirit. The subtle pink of his lips and the dark contrast of his brows and eyelashes, the surprisingly firm and masculine line of his jaw, everything captivated Jiang Cheng’s heart. 

How had he loved two so completely different people? There was no doubt Wen Qing was beautiful, but not in the same way at all. Her beauty spoke of bravery, determination, but also pain and loneliness. It was that complex, endearing mix which had first attracted Jiang Cheng to her. Zewu Jun meanwhile had seemed like a creature of a higher species, even as they became more or less equal in rank. He couldn’t explain feeling the same depth of emotion for two people both outside and inside almost opposite of each other.

As he watched Lan Xichen’s face in deep and heartwarming sleep, he was torn between a desire to keep staring at him all day, and to see the magical creature beside him move and speak to him. Both seemed equally likely to tear his heart to pieces. 

Deciding in the end that he could endure neither, for fear Lan Xichen would come to his senses as soon as he saw him in the light of day, Jiang Cheng quietly got up, got dressed, and left the entrancingly beautiful mythical creature where he was to perform his daily duties. 

When Lan Xichen emerged from the guest room less than an hour later, Jiang Cheng’s heart was in for another sweet torment. It would be a lie to say he hadn’t agonized just a little over which clothes to lend Zewu Jun. In the end, rather than his own or his father’s, he had chosen a style and color scheme that more closely resembled Jiang Yanli’s. 

Over the lilac zhongyi, a soft pale dogwood-colored yi. To accent those, a lavender belt and silk palatinate robe. Whether or not he still thought he was fooling anyone, Lan Xichen seemed to have left his headband concealed around his wrist, and his hair hung loose, the lustrous black a delightful contrast with the purple, white and pink of his clothes and the cold white tone of his skin. Without realizing, in choosing clothes for Zewu Jun, Jiang Cheng had blended the symbols of the sky for Gusu Lan and lotuses for Yunmeng Jiang into the image of a magnolia. It suited Lan Xichen painfully well, he thought. Jiang Wanyin was so overwhelmed he almost blurted out his love as soon as he saw him. Fortunately a servant made a noise behind him while carrying a bucket of water and snapped him back to reality.

But before he could rest his heart, Zewu Jun further tortured him by breaking into a joyful smile as soon as he caught sight of Jiang Cheng. “Wanyin,” he said, apparently not intending to strike up conversation but just saying his name, approaching and standing beside him with a look of contentment. “Good morning,” he added after a pause, his smile brightening.

Jiang Cheng swallowed, utterly dazzled by him and not sure whether to spare his heart by looking away or savor every moment of Zewu Jun in his home and family colors. “…morning…” he mumbled. Quickly changing the subject he said, “I sent a messenger to Gusu as soon as I got up. I assume you didn’t tell anyone you came here.”

Zewu Jun looked skyward as he tried to hide his guilt. He gave an awkward laugh. “Well…”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Fine clan leaders we both make.”

Xichen chuckled. “Thank you for your trouble, Wanyin. Then I suppose I should be on my way to avoid distracting you from your duties.”

Jiang Cheng couldn’t hide his disappointment well enough as he looked up at Xichen, and as soon as he did, he saw in Xichen’s face that he had been testing him. He looked away bitterly from the smiling gentleman. 

“You fool people well,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “The truth is you actually have a bad personality.”

“But you’ll keep my secret, won’t you?” Xichen played along, clearly enjoying himself.

Jiang Cheng couldn’t stop himself from blushing, feeling happy in spite of himself. “Shameless.”

Xichen sighed a little. “Forgive me. I’m not used to this kind of happiness. On that subject, Wanyin…I understand if you need time to think about what you want from me.”

“What…I want?” Jiang Cheng murmured, uncertain what he meant.

Xichen paused, seeming reluctant to elaborate. He attempted a smile, but Jiang Cheng was sure he saw traces of sadness in his eyes. “It doesn’t need to have a name. But there are some things I would like to know. For example…”

Xichen took a step closer. Jiang Cheng’s heart flew into his throat. He was once again entranced by the subtle scent of Lan Xichen’s body, the same sandalwood and moss but still bearing traces of sweat from the previous night, which to Jiang Cheng’s surprise only excited him more. From the corner of his eye he saw Xichen’s hand open up just a little and face his own, though it came nowhere near.

“…if I could be permitted to hold you hand. In front of your clan members.”

Simultaneously, Jiang Cheng’s heart was bombarded by two waves of dissonant emotions. Joy that filled him up completely. And fear that he could not take hold of it without risking losing it. In the first place, he wasn’t sure what Zewu Jun was doing here with him. It never occurred to him that he felt the same way, even after hearing him say he needed him. 

“You…you’re a clan leader too,” Jiang Cheng muttered. “You should understand why we can’t do that.”

Xichen took this in for a moment without much change in his expression. He looked aside as he considered. “Leaders do set the example for others,” he said softly, and Jiang Cheng thought there was more to his words than appeared. But then he turned to Jiang Cheng with a smile. “Thank you. I understand. Then, when we are alone?”

Jiang Cheng let out a shaking sigh in spite of himself, still quite enraptured by the peerless beauty before him, especially standing here in Jiang colors. “…I guess.”

Xichen let out a soft sigh of relief, his smile brightening. In a low and tender voice, he asked, “And more intimate things?”

“Enough,” Jiang Cheng grunted. “This…isn’t a suitable topic for broad daylight in the middle of my courtyard.”

Lan Xichen looked around but conveniently at that moment none of the Jiang servants or myrmidons were in sight. Nonetheless, he nodded reluctantly. “I’m sorry to press you so suddenly. I made the mistake of communicating my feelings too little with A-Yao. And gave his none of the attention they deserved. To my regret…”

Though he was sure Xichen didn’t intend this, his last casually uttered phrase tapped into a deep fear in Jiang Cheng. He had once made the same mistake too. He never wanted to regret words unsaid or life unlived again. He tightened his fists as he silently swore he would never let anything happen to Zewu Jun, foolishly thinking he would stand a chance against any danger Lan Xichen couldn’t handle. He also admonished himself that Xichen already knew how he felt; he wasn’t risking anything by being honest.

“…will you go back to Gusu today?” Jiang Cheng asked softly.

“I think so. I can’t exactly go missing.”

Jiang Cheng shamelessly tried to think of an excuse for him to stay a little longer. Ideally not night hunting, as that wasn’t exactly romantic. “Before you go…in recompense for the time you spent teaching me, and assuming you have any interest, would you like to practice Lotus Pier cultivation techniques with me?”

Xichen’s eyes brightened. “What a generous offer.” He bowed, the practiced formal action showing off to even better advantage his beautiful magnolia-themed attire. “I would be happy to accept.”

Jiang Cheng nodded brusquely. He guided Lan Xichen to the edge of the pier and directed him to a boat. Jiang Cheng was again awestruck by his beauty, in Jiang clan colors, sitting in a boat off Lotus Pier, framed by lotuses below and mountain greenery above. He actually froze and stared at him for a moment as he was untying the boat. 

Xichen noticed his gaze. “Wanyin?”

Jiang Cheng shook himself. “Nothing. I’m coming.”

He stepped into the boat and kicked off from the pier, using spiritual energy to guide their course. It wasn’t a great distance to reach the rocky training ground, at the rear of which was a quiet glade of moss and weeping willows. He was pleased as they walked through it that Xichen seemed to admire the sunlight glinting in through the arms of the overarching trees. 

“…to cultivate inner strength, we practice qigong. Do you have experience?”

Xichen took this in with interest, but shook his head. “We only use sword techniques and fixed mediation in Gusu. I’m afraid I know hardly anything about Jiang sect qigong.”

Jiang Cheng nodded, hoping but not expecting that he wasn’t already blushing slightly. “Then…I’ll be your mirror.”

Xichen’s expression softened, ruthlessly attacking Jiang Cheng’s heart with both beauty and kindness. He nodded. 

Though the rapid pounding of his heart was hardly suited to meditation, Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen faced one another in the quiet willow grove. Jiang Cheng took a breath in, which Xichen instinctively copied. He began the most basic sequence, his heart further pounding as Xichen perfectly copied each of his movements, but with a grace all his own.

This activity required them to watch one another closely, and with the pretense of cultivation, in his home and in still awe of the unusual beauty of Lan Xichen in his family’s colors, Jiang Cheng felt simultaneously thrilled and yet deeply content. He tried to spare his heart by focusing his attention on the movements of his body. 

But this too gave him an almost painfully happy sense of community and a relief from so long practicing Jiang sect techniques here alone. And he could hardly ask for a more suitable cultivation partner. He knew of no one more patient or kind, not to mention powerful, both naturally talented and disciplined. Jiang Cheng had a tendency toward inferiority complexes around such people, but oddly in Xichen’s case, his heart held only admiration and pure-hearted affection. 

The more they moved together this way, the more he felt Xichen’s eyes caressing him, the more excitement spread through Jiang Cheng’s body. He broke the rhythm of his breath several times, overwhelmed by the beautiful presence in front of him. Finally, they finished the first sequence. They stood in silence for several long moments, and the air of the willow grove, warmed by afternoon sun, seemed somehow thick. 

Jiang Cheng’s breathing heightened again. Before he realized it, he was already taking a step toward Xichen. 

As he did, Xichen seemed to have reached a similar state and took in a sharp breath to murmur with urgency, “Wanyin…”

He seemed to want to ask him something, but Jiang Cheng had already closed the distance and stopped his mouth with a his own. Xichen’s incredibly strong arms circled around the small of his back and pulled him closer. He parted their lips with a gasp at the center of their bodies touched. 

“Ah…I can’t…do this here…” Jiang Cheng protested belatedly, even though he was the one who started it. 

Though he didn’t yet move to release him, he was touched when even now Xichen reluctantly nodded to his sentiment. “I understand,” he murmured.

But the heat and desire would not leave him, especially in Xichen’s arms like this. Jiang Cheng had already long ago reached the limit of his endurance. He bit his lip nervously, already feeling guilty about what he was about to do. 

“…unless you tie me up,” he mumbled.

Xichen blinked. As his lips parted, Jiang Cheng thought he spotted some redness around Xichen’s ears. “Are you sure?”

Jiang Cheng made a noise of irritation. “This kind of taboo play doesn’t really work if you keep asking permission,” he grumbled.

“Oh I see,” Xichen said innocently, once again killing the mood. But then a slightly impish smile emerged on his face. “In that case, I’ll take you at your word, Wanyin. I hope you remember it.”

Jiang Cheng actually felt a slight flutter of nervousness as he realized that if Lan Xichen chose, he could easily overpower Jiang Cheng and do whatever he wanted. But just as he was realizing that this idea both terrified and excited him, he felt both his wrists grasped together by a long-fingered and very strong hand. 

“Wanyin…do you know the significance of the headband to the Gusu Lan sect?” Xichen asked in an unusually intimate tone. 

“Well…just that it’s important. I know there are a lot of rules about it on that wall…why do you ask that?”

Xichen smiled with a slight glint in his eye as he held Jiang Cheng’s wrists in one hand, and with the other loosened the headband from around his own arm. Without a word, he wrapped it several times around Jiang Cheng’s wrists, conscientiously tying it just tight enough to avoid cutting off the circulation. Once finished, he admired the bond around the younger man’s wrists, running a finger down the inside of Jiang Cheng’s wrist, sending a wave of pleasure up his spine and evoking a noise of surprise from him.

“Perhaps someday you’ll find out,” Xichen told him enigmatically.

The next thing he knew, Jiang Cheng felt himself whirled around in the opposite direction and pushed against a tree. He grasped the bark with his bound hands, nervously trying to look back at Xichen. As he tried though, he felt hot breath on the back of his neck and trembled. Lips barely brushed against his skin. A hand creeping around his waist. He unknowingly let out a small whimper as heat flooded the lower parts of his body.

Xichen’s tongue ran up the inside of his neck. He gasped and his hips arched up toward Xichen’s instinctively. Noticing this, Xichen snaked one hand across Jiang Cheng’s stomach, conveniently avoiding touching his most sensitive part. Instead, as his tongue dove inside Jiang Cheng’s ear, he pressed his body to Jiang Cheng’s back and spread both hands possessively over his chest. 

“Ahhh…!” Jiang Cheng sighed, already in agonized pleasure. “Xichen…! No…you’re supposed to…be rough! Going slow like this is…embarrassing!”

But he only caught a soft chuckle against his skin in response. Even this sent a shiver up his spine. Soon he lost the ability to object as Xichen grasped his hips and lasciviously pressed the growing hardness in his own body against Jiang Cheng’s ass. Despite his embarrassment, Jiang Cheng let out a shuddering gasp of pleasure as Xichen rubbed against him. He had thought this the previous night as well while trying to fit it in his mouth, but among other things he was blessed with, the little Xichen was also enormous.

“We don’t have any oil here,” Xichen whispered in his ear, even as he rolled his hips even more firmly against him, the slight pain of his powerful fingers grasping his hips only further exciting the quivering Jiang Cheng. “…so I’m afraid you’ll have to endure a little embarrassment.”

“…eh…?” Jiang Cheng murmured, concerned but quite distracted. 

Lan Xichen’s fingers caressed the back of his neck, then shoulders, then coursed down his back as he knelt behind him. Jiang Cheng felt his hands slipping down the tree as anticipation and pleasure robbed him of strength. Xichen pushed up the fabric of Jiang Cheng’s upper clothing, then pulled down his ku, suddenly exposing some very sensitive areas to the air. But before Jiang Cheng really had time to be embarrassed about this, Xichen’s long-fingered hands grasped each cheek of his ass and pulled them slightly apart to expose his hole.

“Eh…ah…Xi…chen…” Jiang Cheng whispered, shaking. 

He felt warm breath against a part of his body he never thought would see daylight. And then to his disbelief, a moist, warm tongue. 

“Ngh!” he cried in shock, tensing. “Lan Xichen…are you crazy?! You-” 

Jiang Cheng paused as he realized he had instinctively used all his strength – and even some spiritual energy – to try and free himself from the headband around his wrists. He felt a slight chill of mixed fear and excitement as he realized the small piece of fabric had not budged an inch. 

“Eh…? I really can’t undo it…”

Xichen chuckled again and withdrew his tongue, briefly standing up to speak softly in Jiang Cheng’s ear again. “Of course. Did you think it was just an ordinary headband?” he asked sweetly, brushing some hair from Jiang Cheng’s face and caressing his cheek tantalizingly with his fingertips. 

Xichen then leaned in even closer to whisper, in a voice that made Jiang Cheng feel like he was the only person in the world who was meant to hear it, “The Lan headbands are powerful spiritual tools.” His dexterous fingers reached up and caressed Jiang Cheng’s hand and wrist, brushing over the fabric binding him. “This is an extension of me. It won’t let you go.”

Jiang Cheng’s breath came in gasps. He wasn’t sure where to turn so he helplessly thumped his head against his hands on the tree, his fingers digging into the bark in desperation. His control only further slipped away as Xichen knelt back down and resumed his devoted attention to Jiang Cheng’s hole. 

“Ngh…ahhh….!” Jiang Cheng cried as each move of Xichen’s tongue came further to actually entering him. 

In all his years of disparaging Wei Wuxian and speaking ill of cut-sleeves, he never would have believed that he would feel pleasure from a man’s tongue licking such a place. He also fought guilt at letting such a pristine man perform a vulgar act like this, moreover in a sacred place. Yet at the same time he felt his whole body alive with sensation and desire. By the time Xichen’s tongue actually entered him, he felt his consciousness only hanging on by a thread.

“Xichen…” he gasped, his throat nearly closing. “I…can’t…stand…”

As his knees buckled, Xichen easily helped him to kneel and then bend over onto the forest floor. Jiang Cheng obediently kept his hips raised high for Xichen’s continued attentions, but his upper body slumped to the ground as he trembled and gasped.

The longer Xichen licked him, the hotter and more impatient his lower half became. He wanted to cum. But the stimulation was not quite enough to let him do so. He wiggled in Xichen’s grasp but could barely shift him at all. Finally, Xichen drew back for a time in order to properly moisten his own fingers inside his mouth. Jiang Cheng turned just enough to see this incredibly erotic sight and catch Xichen’s eye. 

The stunningly beautiful man smiled at him as he removed his fingers from his mouth, allowing his tongue and a slim trail of saliva to follow them. Jiang Cheng swallowed hungrily, disbelieving that the prim and proper Zewu Jun could be so lude. Xichen maintained eye contact as he slowly pushed two fingers in immediately. 

Jiang Cheng gasped. “Relax,” Xichen told him softly, as Jiang Cheng clamped down so tightly he could barely move his fingers. 

Jiang Cheng slowly managed to control his breathing, then with a childishness that later brought him great shame when he remembered this moment, he whimpered, “Then touch me…”

Xichen smiled. “Of course. How neglectful I have been.”

With that, he felt a fingertip press against the tip of his cock. “Ahhh!” Jiang Cheng cried, twitching and nearly cumming. 

That mischievous finger performed the same action again, and with just this Jiang Cheng’s whole lower body felt hot and sensitive. Xichen grasped him in his whole hand and stroked him, easily distracting him from the slight discomfort of opening him up. 

Soon Jiang Cheng was so skillfully driven to the extremes of pleasure that he ached to feel Xichen push inside him. He felt drool dripping from the corner of his own mouth as he imagined Xichen’s powerful tool carving him out, claiming him. As he helplessly leaned his head on his own arm on the ground, he couldn’t stop pathetic moans from the dual attack on his cock and his gradually loosening entrance.

Finally, and to his mild disappointment at first, Xichen’s touch left him completely for a moment. When it returned, it was both hands on his ass, spreading his cheeks apart. He whimpered in shame as he briefly came to his senses, but couldn’t stop his desire now. He hesitantly arched his back slightly to present his entrance for Xichen. 

“Wanyin…” Xichen whispered breathlessly.

Then the hot member pressed against Jiang Cheng’s hole, and for a moment hot pain interrupted the bombardment of pleasure he had been feeling up to now. He twisted his fingers in the moss and gritted his teeth. 

“Oh…” Xichen gasped, setting one hand down on the ground beside Jiang Cheng. He was panting too, the sound of his low voice making shivers of pleasure return to Jiang Cheng’s spine. “Wanyin…I know it’s hard, but try to relax…it will hurt more if you’re tense…”

Jiang Cheng tried to steady his breathing. He realized from the throbbing inside him that he was likely hurting Xichen too. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. As he did, his mind wandered to the bind around his wrists. If he concentrated, he indeed thought could almost feel Xichen’s presence holding him there. The thought warmed his heart somehow. He unconsciously brought his wrists closer to his face, and pressed his lips to the fabric.

Xichen took in a sharp breath. He seemed to have been watching as Jiang Cheng performed this incredibly embarrassing action. And just as Jiang Cheng was getting used to the overwhelming feeling inside him, inexplicably Lan Xichen got even bigger. 

“Ngh!” Jiang Cheng yelped, but somehow this time it pressed against that sensitive spot inside him that Xichen had mentioned, and in addition to the discomfort, he felt pleasure flash through him like lightning. His mouth fell open as he let out soft, shuddering gasps, slowly recovering from that powerful pleasure.

He felt himself twitching around Xichen at the same time but he couldn’t help it. Xichen too let out heavy gasps as he gripped Jiang Cheng’s hips and tried his best not to move yet. “Ah…Wanyin…” he whispered, as if afraid to speak too loudly. “I’m sorry…wait just a moment. If I move…I think I’ll cum…”

Jiang Cheng’s eyelashes fluttered as he imagined the feeling of Lan Xichen cumming inside him. Fortunately he was still feeling some pain from being stretched this far with little lubrication, so he was able to avoid cumming just from hearing the words. But he shifted his head against his own arm impatiently. 

“So…you’re not going to move?” he murmured.

Xichen gasped. “Jiang Wanyin…you are a devil,” he panted, and Jiang Cheng felt him throb inside him again. “I need a distraction from your loveliness right now, not more of it.”

Jiang Cheng blushed, realizing that he was the one who was giving Lan Xichen so much pleasure. Not just his body, but his nature. He made a noise of impatience, and began rolling his hips slowly up against Xichen’s. 

“Ah!” Xichen gasped. “Wanyin…stop…”

But rather than stop, Jiang Cheng only grew more excited at hearing the desperation in his lover’s voice. He couldn’t reach Xichen’s mouth from this position, so instead he leaned his head over to the powerful arm steadying Xichen’s body over him, opened his mouth and bit down on the exposed skin of his forearm. 

“Oh…” Xichen moaned, helplessly thrusting forward inside Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng moaned into his skin but did not release him. “Wanyin…I can’t…”

With that, Xichen grasped Jiang Cheng’s whole upper body in his arms, holding him tightly as he pushed his whole length inside and devoured Jiang Cheng with short, deep thrusts. 

“Ahhhh!” Jiang Cheng cried, all his pain cast aside amidst the overwhelming pleasure of being held so tightly while Lan Xichen cock was buried deep inside him. He saw bright spots flash in his vision and couldn’t bear the lascivious sound of his own voice. “Xichen…!” he cried. “You…you…feel…too good! I’m broken…”

“Wanyin!” Xichen nearly squeezed the breath out of him as his body tensed and pounded Jiang Cheng deeply only a few more times. 

Jiang Cheng was already at the edge when Xichen’s voice in his ear, his tensed body surrounding him and his burning hot member inside him tore away the last threads of his sanity. He swore he could feel the force of Xichen cumming inside him. He felt so hot. Embarrassing noises rose from him as just these few sensations pushed him past the peak of pleasure. 

“Ahhhh…hah…hah…” he moaned, as he feared losing consciousness from pleasure echoing through him. He barely noticed as his cock spurted cum onto the forest floor beneath him.

Xichen too was still gripping him tightly, now and then twitching inside him. Jiang Cheng didn’t have another sentient thought for minutes on end as it seemed Lan Xichen was doing his best to make sure he was pregnant by keeping all his cum inside him. Xichen finally let out a shuddering gasp and let Jiang Cheng sink against the ground, where he knelt, panting over him. 

As they lay in exhaustion in the afterglow, Jiang Cheng realized with a blush that he was leaning most of his upper body against Lan Xichen’s arm. This didn’t even seem to phase him. But in his hazy state of mind after feeling so much pleasure so suddenly, Jiang Cheng half turned his face reluctantly up toward the man he loved. 

“Is it…over already?” he mumbled. 

Xichen’s free hand gripped Jiang Cheng’s hip, and Jiang Cheng gasped as he felt him still twitching inside him. “Wanyin…” he growled. “I’m sorry…bear with me a little longer!”

He wrapped one arm under Jiang Cheng’s chest and neck, gripping him there so hard it hurt a little, and this time pounded him mercilessly without pulling out even once. Jiang Cheng realized he was not done filling the willow grove with his pathetic noises, but he couldn’t believe how good it felt to feel Xichen’s cum being stirred up inside him by his relentlessly hard cock. 

“Xichen…” he gasped. “Ah! I…love you…”

“Ngh!” Xichen moaned. “Wanyin…please…” Seemingly in an attempt hold himself back, his teeth sank into the skin of Jiang Cheng’s neck. 

Jiang Cheng barely even felt the pain as the pleasure of being wanted so badly set shockwaves of pleasure through his body. When they each came after this second time, they were both trembling and secretly hoping the powerful sensations were over. But moments after Xichen reluctantly pulled out, allowing a small trickle of cum to leak from Jiang Cheng’s twitching hole, Xichen panted, flipped the younger man onto his back, surrounded him in his arms and kissed him deeply as he filled him once more. Jiang Cheng moaned blissfully into his mouth, letting his bound hands loop over Xichen’s head and weave tightly into his hair. 

That blissful afternoon went on until expecting to get back to Gusu before dark began to seem unrealistic. More importantly, Lan Xichen was unwilling to leave Jiang Cheng’s side when he realized he wasn’t really able to walk after his rough treatment. 

“Do you need an infusion of spiritual energy?” he asked with concern, rubbing Jiang Cheng’s slightly red wrists. 

Jiang Cheng raised an eyebrow at him. “My wrists are fine. Direct your concern to the part you just attacked for over an hour.”

Lan Xichen seemed mortified. “I’ll carry you back to Lotus Pier,” he said with determination.

“Nh,” Jiang Cheng grumbled, reluctantly letting Xichen heave him onto his back, where he carried him so easily he didn’t even seem to notice his weight. Jiang Cheng meanwhile couldn’t help but close his eyes and breath in deeply of the scent of Lan Xichen’s neck. He wondered if he was incurring some karmic wrath by being this unbearably happy. 

“Shall I make you some healing tea?”

Jiang Cheng just rolled his eyes with a sigh. 

“Or…some sweet cakes?”

“I am thirty years old,” Jiang Cheng grunted irritably.

Xichen considered for a time before suggesting a little more softly, “Then…shall we take a bath together?”

Jiang Cheng shifted his jaw shyly. Unbeknownst to him, happiness and embarrassment seemed to have an effect of turning him into Lan Wangji. 

“…nh.”


End file.
